


Unfortunate Circumstances

by kyliEisMC2



Series: Fortune Series [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, F/M, Inspired by Romeo and Juliet, Pre-The Hobbit, Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 08:30:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 38,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21096488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyliEisMC2/pseuds/kyliEisMC2
Summary: Two houses, both alike in dignity in the dwarf realm, where an ancient grudge lay between two houses. The feud between the houses of Durin and Brimir has gone on for longer than anyone can recall. When Thorin meet Asha, neither knew what house the other belonged to. Was there meeting the fate of star crossed lovers or an unfortunate circumstance that could end in tragedy?





	1. Two Households

It was widely known within the dwarf community of Middle Earth, that the family descending from Durin and the family descending from Brimir did not get along. 

While both families where both alike in dignity, they each possessed a grudge against the other. One which was passed down from father to son, mother to daughter. Each generation coming from each family was taught to hate and loathe the other. 

It was uncertain as to when, where, or how the feud started. Some say it was Durin and Brimir themselves who began the quarrel. But despite how many generations back the quarrel had begun, it continued on as each family raised their young to hate the other. The Brimir’s called the Durin’s greedy and arrogant, while the Durin’s labeled the Brimir’s as pompous and conniving. While most would say “to each his own”, these two families preferred the phrase “keep to your own”. 

Due to their anathema, it was established that each family did their best to avoid the other. Neither family paid tribute or acknowledgment to the other kingdom. The Durin’s ruled from Erebor in their mighty mountain that stood alone. While the Brimir’s ruled from Dhom, their own stronghold in the far North region of the Grey Mountains. 

Neither ever set foot in or near the other's kingdom. They would even go so far as to lengthen their journey by several days travel just to avoid even looking upon the other's lands. 

While the families did not get along with each other, they did however get along with the other dwarven kingdoms. Therefore, the two families were bound to run into each other every once in awhile. 

On these occasions, each house kept to themselves when an event called for both parties to be invited. As a result, each family usually took a side or corner of the premise and stayed within their own territory until the remainder of the event. Although, while words were not exchanged, sneers and glares were exchanged steadily from across dining halls, ballrooms, and tournaments. 

As a result of their avoidance over the centuries, it became difficult to for each house to identify another by their appearance. And so it happened on frequent occasion, that a dwarf from each family would find themselves in conversation with each other. And on a frequent occasion, these conversations would be considered quite pleasant. That is until the point of the conversations when they exchanged names. 

Every child of each house was taught to memorize the names to loathe and avoid. However, as each family grew, so did the list, and some names were forgotten. And as families became entwined with other families through matrimony, the defined line of when the hatred began and ended within each family line became more hazy. It was because of this phenomenon that two youth from each family met and because of their ignorance to which house the other belonged, they found themselves intrigued by the other. 

* * *

Thorin gazed around the room with a look of boredom and disinterest. He had just recently escaped from the clutches of a group of rather desperate dwarrow maids who had been hovering by his side since he first entered into the room. This had become a repeated occurrence since he had become of age only a few years ago and he was beginning to grow weary of it. 

Many of them were beautiful, he could not deny that, but they were all dull and in too many cases, dim witted. He wanted someone who could converse with him and bring their own opinions and ideals into the conversation. 

Too often they agreed with anything he said and while many would say that was a blessing, he found it boring. It was not that he wanted a person who would butt heads with him all the time, but all the same, he wanted someone to challenge him and correct him when he was in the wrong. He knew kings were not always perfect, despite what people saw from afar. If people truly looked close enough they would see a man with flaws with a corrective woman beside him. 

A king was only as good as his queen. 

The room was too noisy and too warm for his liking and when the moment presented itself, he slipped out of the main hall through a side door leading to the gardens. 

The sun had fallen behind the horizon hours ago, leaving only the silver light of the full moon to illuminate his surroundings. The noise of music and laughter, while now muffled, was still louder than he wanted and he made his way farther away from the building. He breathed in the crisp cool air as a chilled breeze flowed past and cooled his face. He continued walking, enjoying the solitude that he was rarely allowed and turned the corner when a bend in the gravel path formed before him. 

His steady pace came to an abrupt stop when he spotted the silhouette of another person just ahead. He could make out that it was a woman, a dwarrow maid given that her auburn hair was left to loosely fall down her back. But any other specific features were lost to him as the shadows cast by the surrounding hedges blocked any light from reaching her face. 

The girl paused in her step and began to look around. Thorin could only assume she had heard his approach. He let his body fall back against the wall he was standing near and let the shadows consume him as the girl turned fully around to look behind her. 

He held his breath, counting the seconds as she blindly searched for the source of his detected noise. For what seemed like an eternity the girl finally turned back around, seemingly content that she was not being followed and began making her way farther down the path. 

Thorin did not move from his hidden position until she made it to the end of the path and turned to go down another. Intrigued, Thorin moved from his hiding place and quietly followed in the direction she had gone. 

As he turned the corner she had disappeared around, a slight disappointment came to him as he found the path empty and the girl no longer in sight. Just as he began his debate of trying to track her down or continue on his own way, he heard a light splash of water, like a small stone being tossed into a pond. His ears perked up and at the sound of a similar splash, he followed in its direction. As he walked down the path he heard several more light splashes, each one becoming louder than the previous as he neared the source. 

Finally, as he came to the very end of the hedgerow, it opened up to reveal a small open field with a small body of water laid in the middle. He stayed in the shadow of the path as he caught sight of the girl not far off as she stood before the water, tossing small stones into the water. 

As she threw the last stone in hand, she turned to retrieve another handful from the small beach she was standing on. With no vegetation to cast shadows, Thorin could now clearly see her face as the moonlight illuminated her entirety. 

Her hair was much brighter than he originally thought. Although still not quite as red as his cousin Dain, it still glowed in the moonlight like the darkest shades of a dying fires embers. Her skin was pale, even for a dwarf, but it suited her. A pleasant smile of content adorned her face as she bent down to choose another handful of rocks. As far as facial features, it was still too dim to make out any specific details but Thorin proclaimed her quite pretty. 

He continued to watch as she examined a rock before tossing it back to the ground to choose another. As he continued to watch her he found himself becoming relaxed. Her movement was surreal. Each extension of her arm and bend at joint was a graceful motion. Like a perfectly executed dance step, she moved with the fluidity of a calm flowing river. 

He could not provide himself an explanation but there was something about her that intrigued him. Perhaps it was the fact that despite the wedding celebration taking place inside, she sought out solitude as he did. Or it could have been the fact that he had been present to numerous events that had the same guests as tonight yet he had no recollection or knowledge of who she was. 

“It is rude to encroach upon one’s solitude without making yourself known,” she said aloud. 

Thorin startled at her voice. He had been so lost in his thoughts that he had failed to realize that she had become aware of him. Had he made a noise? Was he visible? He looked down to find himself completely covered in the darkness. There was no possibility she could see him. Yet, as he looked back up to her he could see that she was staring directly at him from where she was lowly squatting to pick up a rock. 

“No need to hide in the shadows, unless perhaps you are a shadow yourself and would be lost in the light,” she said thoughtfully, tilting her head to one side. “But then again, I have never heard of a shadow without a body, so perhaps you are a ghost?”

She flashed him a smile and he felt his heart skip a beat as her face lit up with a mischievous look, as if she knew something that he did not. 

Slowly Thorin took a step forward into the moonlight. As he came into view, she slowly stood and took him in. 

“You should be more afraid if there are ghosts lurking around you,” Thorin commented as he took several more steps, closing the gap between them. 

He stopped a few steps away, not wanting to make her feel too uncomfortable. They were strangers, after all. She crossed her arms and looked at him, contemplating his words. 

“Perhaps,” she said slowly, then added, “but seeing as you are no ghost, there seems to be no reason to be afraid.” 

“And what makes you think that I am not a danger?” He asked in a teasing tone.

She looked him up and down. 

“Are you a dangerous man?”

Thorin unconsciously straightened up under her examination.

“No,” he answered. “But that does not mean there are not dangerous men in this world.” 

She smiled mischievously, obviously amused by his statement.

“I think I can handle myself but I do appreciate the concern.” 

She turned away from him and began walking down to the water. He watched her go for a moment, unsure as if he was invited to follow or if it was his cue to leave. When she glanced behind herself to him, he took it as an invitation and followed after. It only took him three long strides before he was in step with her. 

“How did you know that I was there?”

She kept her eyes set on the body of water before them as she answered. 

“You may want to reevaluate your skills in stealth. While still commendable, you overestimate the lightness of your step.” 

When she finished her explanation, she threw a stone into the pond and they both watched the ripples spread out across the still water until they disappeared. Thorin’s first thought was that he should be offended by her words but he was surprised when he was not. 

She had been refreshingly honest and he could not help but like her for it. Instead of responding, he plucked a stone gently from her hand. Where the tips of his fingers brushed against hers, a tingling sensation lingered and numbed any feeling that he had sensed earlier. He looked to her face to see if he could identify a similar effect on her. 

He was met with hazel eyes that twinkled with an unidentifiable expression. Seeing her up close, he noticed that while her arms and neck where a constant pale pigment, her face did in fact have the smallest amount of pigment from a splatter of freckles that painted a galaxy of constellations across her cheeks, nose, and forehead. 

He thumbed the pebble in his hand noticing that the feeling had returned to his fingertips as he felt the smooth surface of the stone. He flipped it around in his hand, noting the perfect roundness to it. A stone of perfect symmetry. 

Not taking his eyes away from hers, he drew back his arm and skipped the rock across the water's surface. At his movement, her eyes followed the rock's direction, her lips moving ever slightly as she silently counted the skips.

Nine, ten, eleven.

The moment the stone lost momentum and slipped beneath the water's surface he saw it. It was but a glimmer before it faded but he had seen it, and he was pleased with the results of his talent. Despite the simplicity of the activity, she had been impressed. She looked at him with a renewed measurement as if to reexamine his continence. 

“Are you sure you are not a ghost or a shadow?”

He quirked an eyebrow. 

“What makes you say that?”

“I have never met a man able to skip a stone that many times. So surely you cannot be just a man as you said before,” she explained

Thorin smiled. 

“Ah, but it seems that it was you, not I, that deemed me not a ghost or a shadow,” he pointed out. 

She opened her mouth as if to counter his accusation but recollection appeared on her face and she closed it. Instead she smiled and nodded. 

“Perhaps I was wrong to rule them out so quickly,” she admitted. 

Thorin nodded. 

“Now the question is, am I a ghost or a shadow?”

She looked at him closely as if truly pondering his question. 

“Well your dark complexion of hair goes better with the idea that you are a shadow rather than a ghost.” 

She stepped forward and reached out with both hands. One hand grasping his own hand while the other was placed against his chest, right where his heart beat beneath his skin. 

Her hands only lingered for a few beats before she withdrew herself by taking two steps back and he prayed to Mahal that she had not felt his heart long enough to notice its rapid pace when she had stepped so closely. Then he noticed the faint pinkness that seemed to bloom across her own cheeks and he felt slightly more relaxed that he was not the only one who had been affected so easily by a thing such as close proximity. 

“Most ghosts tend to not have a heartbeat and are cold to the touch. You have a strong heartbeat and no ghost could possess even that faintest of beats. For if it were to have one, then it would be alive, and if it were alive, it would not be a ghost. You also poses a warmth to your hands. And everyone knows that a ghost can only emit coldness. Again our first option is eliminated. That makes two for two. You sir must be a shadow,” she determined. 

Thorin chuckled at her reasoning and conclusion. 

“Have you meet many ghosts and shadows to have such knowledge in all this.” 

She gave him a wickedly amused smile. 

“I have met a handful in my time.” 

“While it seems like a good enough conclusion, I see a flaw in your logic.” 

She raised an eyebrow at his statement. 

“And what, pray tell, would that flaw be?” She asked coolly. 

Thorin smiled, emboldened by the ease in which he was able to converse so freely with the dwarrow maid in their banter, he took a step forward. Slowly, he raised a hand to her chin and tilted her face up towards his before gently placing a chaste kiss on her lips. 

Her lips were soft and smooth against his. It was such a pleasant sensation that he struggled to pull himself away. But propriety fueled his self control to not indulge further and he pulled his lips from hers far sooner than he wanted. 

He watched her carefully as his hand remained under her chin, his thumb slowly caressing her jaw as he watched her eyes flutter open and gaze up at him. 

To his pleasure there was no disdain in her face. Instead, he was quite pleased to see the same desire to repeat the action mirrored in her own eyes.

A smirk graced his lips. 

“Would a shadow be able to do that?” he asked as his smirk grew. 

She was quite for several breaths. Either too stunned to speak or too focused on other things than to finish their conversation. 

After a moment, she seemed to collect herself and let her eyes refocus back to his eyes rather than his lips as she spoke. 

“If not a shadow, then what are you?” 

Her question was barely above a whisper. 

“I hope it is not too much of a disappointment,” he said as he let his smirk turn into a humble smile, “but I am merely a man who can but skip a stone seventeen times.” 

She looked at him with a hint of confusion. 

“I believe it was only eleven,” she contradicted. “You’re a man, not a god.”

He laughed at her words. 

“Shall I prove it to you?”

She gave him a skeptical look but held an arm out towards the body of water as a silent challenge to prove himself. He smirked again then began to search for another, perfect stone. He could not help but smile again as she crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently as she watched him search the ground. 

Finally he spotted it. A flat smooth stone in the most perfect circle he had ever seen. He picked the stone up and brushed off the dirt as he weighed it in his palm. It was perfectly weighted and balanced. 

He shot her a grin then walked to the edge of the water. Just as he began to draw his hand back, an idea came to his mind. 

“What do I earn when I do it?” He asked as he turned back around to look at her standing slightly higher up on the bank. 

“You mean if you do it?”

“When I do it,” corrected Thorin confidently. 

She thought for a moment then shrugged. 

“Proof that you can skip a stone seventeen times?” 

Thorin shook his head. 

“No, that will not do.”

She raised her brow. 

“Then why don’t you tell me what you want.”

He smirked then thought carefully. 

“I want another kiss.”

Despite her obvious efforts to hide it, he saw her blush even in the dim darkness of the night. She cleared her throat and brushed a strand of hair behind her shoulder carelessly as she placed a facade of indifference upon her face. 

“If that is what you wish,” she said casually, not meeting his eyes as she folded her arms and inspected her nails.

Thorin grinned and turned back around. His heart was pounding wildly. He had spent the entire summer days with his brother down by the lake skipping stones. They had always competed against each other and Thorin had always won. 

He had not lied when he said he could skip a stone seventeen times. He had done it a dozen times this past summer and yet never in his life had he felt that he would be disappointed if he only skipped it sixteen. 

But this was more than beating his brother he reminded himself as he remembered the feeling of her lips against his. He could already begin to feel the disappointment he would receive should he fail to feel those lips against his just once more. 

He quickly shook his head as he tried to focus. He would not fail. He wanted that kiss too much. 

He pulled back his arm, took in a breath, then released both breath and stone as he slung his arm forward. He watched with bated breath as the stone skipped across the water. 

One, two, three.

He had never seen a rock move so quickly with each skip it seemed to not lose any velocity. 

Eight, nine, ten. Splash, splash, splash. 

The rock was more than halfway across the lake. With each skip his heart beat faster 

Fifteen, Sixteen. Splash, splash, thud. 

Thorin watched in disbelief. The ripples and waves caused by the rock settled, leaving everything in silence as Thorin stared out across the water to the opposite shore. He could not believe it, he had skipped the rock over the entirety of the body of water only for it to land on the opposite shore just inches from the ebbing water. The thick silence that had settled over the scene was broken when a light snort of laughter sounded behind him.   
  


He turned to see the dwarf maid with her hands pressed against her mouth as she tried, but to no avail, suppress her unrefined laughter. After a few more attempts to keep her giggles contained inside of her, she burst into a fit of laughter as she took in Thorin’s shocked expression. She hugged her sides as she bent over, falling to the ground as her legs collapsed beneath her. 

“That would have been seventeen!” Thorin quickly defended, not happy with being laughed at. 

His statement only seemed to make her laugh even harder as she shook her head and wiped the tears of laughter that formed at the corners of her eyes. Slowly, after several attempts to contain herself she calmed down and looked at him. Unfortunately, his disgruntled frown and displeasure within his eyes seemed to only refuel her laughter again. 

As her laughter filled the air once more, Thorin let out a low growl of frustration. 

“That is not fair, I ran out of water, even if it had stopped it still would have been seventeen,” Thorin defended quickly. 

She looked up at him, shaking her head. 

“It still doesn’t count,” she replied between the occasional small fit of laughter.

Thorin let out a low growl and stalked towards her. Seeing his change in demeanor she shot up to her feet. 

“What are you doing?” She questioned quickly as she moved into a more defensive stance. 

Thorin stopped just short of her, ignoring her worried look as he searched the ground for a stone. He picked up a potential rock and weighed it in his hands before throwing it back to the ground, dissatisfied with its lack of smoothness. 

The dwarrow maid watched Thorin closely as he glared determinedly at the ground, his eyes moving every which way, not leaving a stone unnoticed as he searched again. A smile graced her face as she watched him work for a moment before taking a step forward and placing a hand on his shoulder. 

He paused in his search and straightened up, looking at her curiously as she smiled at him. She was touched that a man would be so determined to earn a mere kiss from her. 

“I have a deal for you,” she said softly. 

She watched as his face softened from frustration to intrigue. Satisfied that she had his interest she bent down and picked up a stone and placed it into his hand. It was certainly not perfect. The stone was slightly rough and while relatively flat, it was more oval than circular and felt unbalanced. She curled his fingers around the stone as she looked up into his face. 

“If you can skip this stone seventeen times, I will owe you double the reward.”

Thorin studied her face. He watched as the corner of her mouth quirked into a smirk and he wanted nothing more than to claim her lips right then and there. But he restrained himself. He had not earned such a privilege, at least not yet. 

He weighed the stone again. 

“Make it triple,” he bargained. 

The girl chuckled then held out her hand to shake on the deal. Thorin grasped it, but instead of shaking it, he pulled it to his lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles. 

When he released her hand he marched back down to the water. 

Without stopping to think he put all hope and fate into Mahal as he threw the stone. 

He watched it skip three times then turned to face the maid as he continued to keep track of skips. With each splash as he examined the girl before him. Her hands were clenched together at her chest, her knuckles turning white in anticipation as she kept her eyes glued to the body of water. He took a step after each splash, never letting his eyes move from her lips as he watched her count. 

With each splash her lips silently formed the number. 

Eleven, twelve, thirteen. 

At sixteen he was in front of her and the moment the seventeenth splash sounded, his lips crashed down onto hers. 

Her hands automatically flew up to his chest as he barely registered the splash of one last skip before the water fell silent as his new record was set at eighteen skips. 

His lips moved with hers as he pulled her closer, deepening their kiss. He felt her hands move up and wrap around his shoulders. Both of them holding onto the other, refusing to be the one to break away first. 

It was the lack of oxygen that forced them to finally break away simultaneously. Each of them breathing heavily as they gazed at one another. As his breath caught up he closed in again, this time starting much more gently and slowly. 

His hand wrapped around her waist while his other caressed her cheek then slid down to her neck to pull her in closer. Just as he felt her body lean into him a voice calling out a name caused her to break away, a panicked look taking over her flushed face as she stepped away from him. 

“Asha,” called an older feminine voice. 

She turned towards the hedges in the direction of the voice only to turn back to face him when he took her hand in his. Her eyes were wide with worry, as if she were afraid to be caught with him. 

“I am sorry, I have to go,” she said quickly as pulled her delicate hand from his and began to hurriedly run towards the voice calling out her name. 

Thorin lurched forward, grabbing her arm to stop her. 

“Wait,” he pleaded. 

He had not seen this girl all night during the festivities and was worried that he would not see her again. 

“Tomorrow night, meet me here again around the same time.” 

“Asha,” the voice called again, this time much closer. 

She looked in the direction of the hedge before sparing him one last glance and nodding a confirmation in acquiesce to his request. Satisfied with this answer, he let her go and watched her run off towards the hedge to be lost in the darkness of shadows as she entered the maze of shrubbery. 

“Asha, there you are. You have been missing all night,” he heard the woman reprimand. 

He listened as he heard the girl began to give an apology before she was cut off. 

“Never mind that, you should not be out her alone. Should your mother find out you are out here and with out your escort she would have me tarred and feathered!” The woman reprimanded. “Honestly, tonights escort was the finest of young man you could ask for and yet you would still rather wander off in solitude than stay in his company.” 

Thorin frowned at the older woman's words. Who was this young man? Why was it important that she need to stay by his side? At the thought of her in accompany with another man he found a strange tightness in his chest. Confused by the odd feeling he searched for reasons as to what would cause this discomfort. 

Jealousy? 

No. That would be ridiculous, he thought. 

He hardly knew the girl let alone had any right to lay claim to her. He had barely spent more than thirty minutes with her. He knew nothing of her. He had not learned where she came from. Had not learned anything of her social standing, although judging by the craftsmanship of her dress he could guess she was of some sort of noble birth. 

But he did not know that for sure, he quickly corrected. They had merely had a small banter, made a wager, and he skipped some stones. 

And shared a kiss, his mind reminded him. 

Yes, and shared a kiss.Three kisses to be exact and she still owed him one more kiss.

At this thought he could not help but smile. A kiss he would claim tomorrow night and several others if she would let him. With his spirits renewed to a higher level, he moved back down to the water's edge and sat down on the bench that looked out across the water. As he thought about the girl that intrigued him so easily, his mind reminded him of one more thing. The one and only thing he knew about her. Her name. 

Asha, the woman had called her Asha. 

He let the name replay in his mind over and over again as he laid down on the bench and let his mind wander and roam in fantasies he hoped to come true with a girl named Asha. 

* * *

Thorin stood at the waterfront waiting impatiently. He had tried to seek her out throughout the stronghold all day. Even if it was but a glimpse of her but there was no sign or trace of her among the crowded halls and high trafficked corridors. The day seemed to pass by at an unseemly slow pass. It had been like waiting for the spring to begin the day after the autumnal equinox. 

Gloomy and long. 

He paced back and forth as he counted each minute that passed by. He had arrived earlier than the previous night in hopes that she would come early as well. But the time that they had agreed upon came and went. And long after that time, he still found himself standing alone by the lake. 

In a fit of disappointment and anger at himself for letting himself hope too much, he chucked the stone he was holding in his hand at the still water. The stone made a loud sloshing noise as it broke through the waters surface and sank without a single skip. 

Thorin’s shoulders sagged in defeat and he felt weary. He had woken early that morning still laying on the hard bench after staying up late, thinking and then eventually dreaming of Asha. 

Now it was late again and he was weary of a long day of waiting. He walked over to the bench and sat down without looking and set his hands on either side of him as he felt the smooth granite beneath his fingers. 

His right hand found a mar in the smooth stone and he absentmindedly let his finger follow the crack until they grazed something other than cold granite. 

He looked down at the bench to discover an envelope lying on the seat next to him, a small stone placed atop to keep it from being blown away. 

Slowly, he picked each item up placing one in each hand. The stone was similar to the one Asha had placed in his hand the night before. Not perfect, but good enough to skip. 

Eagerly he moved his attention to the note. Breaking the wax seal that held it closed, he unfolded the parchment as quickly as he could without tearing the paper. The writing was perfect penmanship. Each letter carefully drawn and paired to form words that his eyes hungrily read. 

To my midnight shadow, 

For I do not have another name,

I must apologize for my absence tonight. In my hurry to leave, combined with my eagerness to see you again, I had forgotten that my family was to depart first thing in the morning to return home. I only remembered such things as I laid my head down for the night. 

I express my deepest disappointment that my remembrance did not come sooner and we could have met once more this morning before departure. As it is, all I can do is hope. Hope that perhaps one day we shall have the chance to meet again as I am still indebted to you. I believe that debt consists of one kiss. 

As I am not one to let my debts go unpaid, I can only hope that someday Mahal will bring us back together so that I might repay that debt and perhaps also earn your name. Until then, keep this stone as a token of my favor. I know that it is not perfect in shape, or in balance, and that its surface may seem rough compared to the stone you first chose, but in my experience perfect is not necessarily the best. For it was not your perfect stone that won my heart but the second blemished stone that did. It is for this reason that I have hope that this stone, which is more like the second, will prove more lucky. 

Until we meet again, however long it may be,

Asha

His emotions switched with each sentence. First he was worried that she was to tell him that she did not want to see him. Then he was relieved that she had not intended to stand him up but was unable to meet him as she had left that morning. 

Immediately he began to chastise himself for leaving the bench so early that morning. Had he stayed longer he could have perhaps caught her when she came to leave the note. But he could not let his thoughts linger on the disappointment when she had expressed her hope to see him again. 

When he had finished her letter he emotions settled into a final feeling. He felt an indescribable joy as he read the words stating that he had won her heart. 

He read her note three more times before lying back on the bench to gaze up at the star filled sky. His mind wandered and focused on his mental recollection of every detail of the previous night. He let out a small audible chuckle that echoed into the night as he made a conclusion. He may have won her heart, but she had stolen his. 


	2. Hope is a Lover's Staff

"And where is the beautiful lass that we have heard you recite ballads about?" Asked Frerin with a wide smirk as he and Vili joined Thorin on a high balcony that overlooked the grand hall of Erebor. "I see many a lass in this room that are quite beautiful but none that seem to fit your degree of beauty in which you described your pretty lass to be."

Thorin frowned and gritted his teeth as he kept silent, doing his best to ignore his brothers words.

To say he was disappointed was an understatement. It had been three months since that night they met and despite the numerous celebrations Erebor had hosted, she had yet to show.

And now he had made the mistake of telling Frerin and Vili about Asha.

While he recounted the story closely with his brother, there were still a few elements of his tale that he had kept to himself. Details such as their wager, her owed kiss, and her name.

It did not make sense to keep her name to himself as it would improve his chances in finding her if they knew who they were looking for, but each time he opened his mouth to say it, something stopped him. It was the only thing he truly knew of her and he wanted to keep it sacred. That and the fact that if they were armed with a name, the teasing would only worsen.

"Perhaps he has just made up a tale or he had too much to drink that night and the beauty in which he saw was really that pretty little number over there." Vili said with a wink as he pointed over to the most homely looking dwarrow maid in the room.

Thorin frowned as Frerin and Vili burst into laughter and Thorin's expense.

"OR, this dwarrow maid was just merely a figment of his imagination." Frerin offered between fits of laughter. "You said you saw her in the gardens by the pond?"

Thorin gave a hesitant nod, unsure of what Frerin was going to do with this information. Dwalin smiled and clapped him on the back.

"There you go then. It was probably just a bush that you ran into during your drunken stupor." He explained while bursting into laughter again and joined by Vili.

"This is why I don't tell you two these things," Thorin grumbled as he darkly glared at them.

As Frerin and Vili continued to come up with other ideas to explain Thorin's mystery women, Thorin let his eyes wander across the great hall as he let their voices fade into muffled white noise in the background of his thoughts.

The hall had dozens of long tables set up in rows that hosted a vast amount of varying dwarves. His eyes scanned down each row, skipping over the males and concentrating on the dwarrow maids.

He found that there was an abundance of lovely dwarrow maids in the dining hall. All smiling and doing their best to charm their male counterparts. But as his eyes passed over maid after maid, he finally came to the conclusion that she was not there.

Still ignoring Vili's and Frerin's voices, he stuffed his hand into his pocket and began to turn the familiar stone that lay against a folded note over and over.

It was a habit he had recently picked up when lost in thought. Every day he placed the stone and note in his pocket and every night he placed them on the table beside his bed. They were the only pieces of evidence he had that proved that night's events had truly occurred. He had the note entirely memorized but it did not stop him from opening it every so often just to look at her name signed at the bottom in her own hand.

"Thorin?"

At the sound of his name he snapped out of his thoughts and looked to Frerin and Vili who were each looking at him, the humor no longer in their faces and they looked at him in concern.

"You ok?" Frerin asked.

Thorin let out a deep sigh as he nodded.

"Yeah," he said with a forced smile. "Perhaps next time."

Both Frerin and Vili looked at each other, neither looking optimistic about his statement. Thorin caught the look shared between his brother and his friend as he tried his hardest to not feel the same way as they did.

Every time an event came up and passed with no sign of her, he would end the night with that phrase.

_Perhaps next time._

Her letter had stated she had hope, therefore he had to have hope as well. He could not give up, he could not forget her, his mind would not allow it as it constantly reminded him every night when he slept.

* * *

Asha eagerly scanned the dance hall from her point in the balcony that encircled the dance floor below. Her eyes moved across the colorful sea of satin and silk dresses as she focused her attention on every male that was present at the dance. It was a habit she had developed at every event she attended. Her heart began to beat wildly as a tall man with dark black hair came into her sights. From her position she could not see his face as he was turned away from her.

Annoyance came to her face as she tried to crane her neck as far as possible without completely revealing herself from behind the pillar she was using as a barrier to hide behind. She knew as soon as her mother caught sight of her she would be pulled away and forced to stand with her escort for the rest of the night.

It was not that she disliked the man. Ivor was close to her in age, only several years her senior, and while often times he was a serious man, he could carry on a pleasant and entertaining conversation. But having an escort certainly made it difficult to search for a particular person when you were restricted to stay by their side.

It was the downside to not being of age yet.

Spring could not come any sooner. It was then she would turn of age and be allowed to participate fully in the festivities that she attended. She would finally be able to join in as many dances as her heart desired instead of standing along the wall as a spectator.

And for the few she was allowed to participate in, her partner could be whomever she wanted without being restricted to only her father, brothers, or escort. Although this last desire had changed drastically in the past months. Where she used to dream of having a different partner for every dance, she now only wanted one partner for all of them.

Her heart leapt as the man she had been observing turned to the side but as soon as she caught sight of his profile, her heart sank in disappointment. It was not him, it was not her shadow. Resigned that tonight's event would yet again be lacking in a specific guest, Asha moved back behind the pillar and sank down to the ground. She hated these moments.

They were the moments that she would second guess her hope to meet him again. They were the moments that she questioned if she had ever met him. The moments when she thought that perhaps her shadow truly was a shadow of her imagination.

But then again, it had felt so real. She could not explain, let alone understand why she had so much hope in seeing him again. They had hardly spent a full hour together. She did not even know his name and here she was, not even of age and pining away for a love she had no name for.

"There you are!"

Asha startled at the sound of her nursemaid's shrill and abrupt voice.

"I thought that was you peeking around the corner," she continued setting a hand on her hip and pointing an accusing finger at her. "I have been looking everywhere for you and here I find you sitting on the floor. Your dress is going to be all wrinkled now!"

Asha jumped up from the floor, her hands moving quickly to smooth down the folds of her dress.

"I...I am sorry Mirrea," she apologized meekly. "I was not thinking, I was just wanting to have a few moments to myself before joining the party."

Mirrea's reprimanding stance relaxed slightly as she gave her charge a soft smile.

"Well I suppose it is better than the last time I found you several weeks ago when you had been galloping about with that young man in the gardens and pond. I nearly threw the dress you wore that night into the fire instead of scrub the three inches of mud you managed to collect with your petticoats."

Asha rolled her eyes then linked arms with the maid.

"I was not galloping about with him," she defended. "And my dress was not that dirty."

Mirrea snorted but said nothing to further their argument. Instead she watched her charge's face closely as her attention moved back to the dancing below and looked from one person to the next. With each new face she examined, her mouth shifted into a deeper frown.

"Not here?" Mirrea asked.

Asha moved her attention away from the crowd below as she finished scanning the last face. She shook her head a fraction, unable to give any other answer.

Mirrea gave her a sympathetic smile as she watched the disappointment take over the girl's usually playful face.

Asha had confided in her that very night three weeks ago of the events when she met the stranger. Her shadow, as they came to refer to him as.

Having no children of her own as she had dedicated her life to servitude, Mirrea had come to view Asha as her own daughter. As a result, it pained her to see Asha become more disappointed with each passing week.

She grabbed the girl's hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

"Perhaps next time," she assured the young girl.

Asha's frown quickly turned into a bright smile at the words of encouragement.

"Yes," she said quietly. "Perhaps next time."

* * *

The smell of fresh wine was pungent in the air as Thorin sipped his own glass of wine from the corner where he stood speaking and observing with Vili. It was the last major social gathering of the year before winter set in and began to make traveling across the mountain passes impossible. Every year all the dwarves gathered together in mass for one final week of merriment with their kinsman to celebrate and dance before they were shut away to reside within their own boundaries for the winter months.

Thorin was usually indifferent for this specific gathering as he found it too crowded and loud as dwarfs tended to drink an even more exuberant amount of alcohol than usual. As the days went on and the drinking continued, they would only become more louder and more animated.

However, despite his past views of the gathering, Thorin was optimistic of this year. The reason being that it was the largest gathering and in theory, the largest chance that Asha would be in attendance.

As the hours ticked away Thorin found his tolerance of the happy cheers and merry dancing more and more annoying. Vili moved from his side to ask his Dis, who had just come of age to dance. Vili's presence had been the only thing keeping Thorin's tolerance of the merriment surrounding him in check. With Vili gone, he soon found his lack of enthusiasm quickly taking over and left the populated area in search of solitude to brood in his foul mood.

He reached into his pocket and rubbed at the stone that sat at the bottom and rotated it in his hand.

As he walked out into the night, a flash of light caught his eye and he focused his attention towards the source of illumination. He was standing atop a grassy knoll. At the bottom sat a large lake and in the middle, mirrored by the glassy black surface was the reflection of the full moon. His eyes searched the shoreline, finding only a small gathering of people on the south end of the lake, he made his way north, making it his destination for solitude.

Despite the distance, the walk did not take long. Soon Thorin found himself standing at the lake's edge, staring out at the bright orb that shone in the middle of the lake.

As a breeze disrupted the still water and perfect reflection of the silver moon, Thorin tilted his head up to see the genuine sight suspended in the sky. Stars surrounded around the moon and Thorin found himself transfixed by the alluring vortex of simple light they provided. It had been a full moon the same night he had met her, he had seen three other full moons since. And he was beginning to wonder just how many more he would yet to see before he found her again.

"I was beginning to think you truly were a shadow."

The words were like a sweet ballad as her voice reached his ears. He whirled around to see her step out from the shadows, her mouth was curved into a serene smile as her eyes glinted in the moonlight.

A slanted smile came to Thorin's lips.

"I was beginning to lose hope that I might see you again."

She feigned a worried look.

"Oh no, you should never lose hope. Bad things happen when you lose hope."

"Then it is a good thing it only faltered and was not lost," he replied back.

She nodded in agreement.

"I will be frank, I had my moments of weakness as well but it seems that we have finally found each other."

"I did not know we were looking for each other," he teased lightly.

"Well then, I suppose I was mistaken. Perhaps I shall be on my way," she jested in return.

She turned to depart but was stopped when his hand wrapped around her wrist. She turned around to look at him and was greeted with a sturdy chest. He was closer than expected and she had to crane her neck to meet his blue eyes.

"Asha, don't go. It was difficult enough to find you once. I would hate to have to go through all the trouble of attending too many loud and boring parties again to find you," he said.

Her eyebrow raised.

"_You_ had it difficult?" She said emphasising each word. "At least you had name. Do you know how difficult it is to find someone that has no name?"

He chuckled lightly at her question as he realized that he had never told her his name. He grinned as she looked at him expectantly for an answer.

"That does sound quite troublesome."

She nodded her head.

"_Very,_" she replied. "However, it seems I have achieved the difficult and perhaps now would be a time to give me your proper name, unless you would prefer me to keep calling you Shadow?"

He lifted his chin as if to contemplate the idea. As she waited patiently for him to finish his musing she watched as a mischievous smile came across his face.

"It does seem that perhaps I owe you my name. But alas, you are still indebted to me. It seems hardly proper that I put you into more debt before I collect what is already owed."

He lifted a hand to her face and lightly traced her jaw with his index finger. He felt her shiver from his touch. He leaned into her ear, his lips lightly brushing her lobe and causing her to shiver even more from the sensation.

"I believe I am owed one kiss," he said in a husky whisper before pulling away to look deeply into her hazel eyes.

Asha could hardly breath. She had been in control only a moment before but the moment he touched her, all sense and control was lost.

Her heart beat furiously as her lungs struggled to keep up. Every fraction of skin he touch burned with heat as he stepped closer to eliminate the remaining space between them.

His hand on her face left a burning line as he moved it further back to gently cradle the nape of her neck while his other hand gently slid against her side to rest along her waist. His smell was intoxicating as it filled her nostrils. She took in a deep breath, her eyes closing as she savored the faint smell of leather and fragrant soap. When they reopened, her eyes dilated in an attempt to keep up with the rest of her heightened senses.

Everything seemed to be working in overdrive, everything except her mind. Her mind was nothing but a blur. She tried to focus and keep her feelings in check but after trying and failing several times, it seemed like a lost cause. So she gave in and she kissed him.

Her lips burned as they met with his. It started out gentle and slow but as the burning grew, so did the kiss. She felt Thorin pull her towards his body. She had not thought they could be any closer, but as he held her tighter and deepened the kiss, the want, the need, to be closer intensified. Her hands reached around his neck in her own attempt to lessen the space between them.

They broke apart at the same instant, each gasping for air as the atmosphere around them stilled. Only their light panting could be heard as they silently stared at each other. One breath, two breaths, on her third breath she could no longer stand it. She needed more, so she kissed him again, then again, and again.


	3. A Rose By Any Other Name

The early signs of the new day were just beginning to announce the daybreak as Thorin and Asha lay under the tree in which they had spent the entire night. The morning dew left the two damp and chilled, causing them to huddle more closely to preserve body heat.

Thorin lay with his arm wrapped around the woman nestled against his chest as her heavy breaths of sleep tickled his neck. He breathed a deep sigh of content, savoring the sweet scent of vanilla and creme that clung to her.

The stars had disappeared when the sky lightened in hue as the sun prepared to break over the horizon. Deep purples were already gathering in the eastern sky as the clouds caught the first rays of sun. Their night had been undisturbed but now the light chirping of birds began to encroach upon their privacy.

As a wren began its morning song in the tree above, Asha stirred in his arms. She shifted to push herself up, leaving an immediate coolness to take her place and Thorin felt an immediate loss of comfort when she moved away. He silently cursed the bird for disturbing her sleep while he watched her quietly as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Her hand lazily slid from her face to lap, as looked around in slight confusion.

Then, as recollections for the previous night slowly came back to her, she looked down to where he still lay on the ground watching her.

Her hair was tangled and in disarray from their earlier escapades but in her sleepiness she seemed to either not notice or not care. Her hazel eyes slowly landed on him and clarity seemed to blossom from her irises as they lit up with unmistakable delight. Her lips parted into a radiant smile as Thorin finally pushed himself up to her eye level. He plucked a leaf that had become entangled in her hair and held it in front of her face to see.

Her face flushed with color as she reached a hand up to her hair. Feeling the messy state that her hair was in, Asha immediately began to try and undo the knots that had formed by combing it with her fingers. Thorin let out an amused chuckle and pulled her hand away from her hair before cupping her cheek and pulling her forward.

"Leave it, you look beautiful," he said quietly before placing a chaste kiss on her lips.

He let her lean back as he returned to his earlier position to admire her renewed blush. She glanced away and looked out across the landscape. Her eyes pausing on the eastern skyline as she took in the transition of the night's dark blue color fade into the day's lilac glow as the sun broke over the horizon. Thorin watched her face as the colors reflected across her pale skin.

No longer able to stand the distance between them, Thorin shifted closer and grabbed her hand. She looked at him but he kept his attention on her thin fingers as he held them lightly, examining them closely before placing a kiss on top of her knuckles. He looked up from her fingers to catch her staring at him with an odd expression. Her head tilted to the side as her vivid eyes danced across his face to take in every feature. He watched as her brow furrowed as she fell deeply into thought.

"What?" he asked, a slight twinge of concern hinted in his voice.

She opened her mouth to reply then hesitated. After a long pause, she finally found her voice.

"I just...I don't…" she struggled to formulate the words and took in a deep breath before spewing her thoughts as she quickly exhaled. "I don't understand how I can feel this way with you."

"Feel what way?"

She concentrated on finding the right word to describe her feelings.

"Trust, safe, secure," she began. "It feels both heavy and light in my chest. My thoughts are entirely consumed by you. Yet it seems as if my brain does not even think, it's as if I am governed entirely by instinct."

She shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I probably sound crazy but I don't know how else to describe…"

Her sentence was cut short when she felt him grab her hand and look directly into her eyes. His lips curled into a gentle smile of endearment.

"You are crazy. Love makes everyone crazy." Her mouth slowly parted as she stared at him with wide eyes. "And if you are crazy then I am absolutely insane because I have been in love with you since the moment I saw you standing in the moonlight four months ago."

Asha was at a loss for words.

_Was he right? Was she in love? Would love flourish so easily and with such haste? Would this love fade just as quickly as it came? Could you fall in love so young?_

She stared at him with wide eyes as she searched his face for the answers to the questions running through her mind. His face mirrored her expression as if he too were contemplating the same mysteries. It was in this moment that she realized that while perhaps he may not have the answers to those questions, there was one question he could answer.

"What is your name?"

Thorin was taken aback by her question but then the realization settled in his mind that he had yet to give her his name. He smiled in amusement at the thought. She had no idea who he was. She had no idea he was a prince of Erebor and that one day he would be king.

For all she knew, he could be nothing more than a lowly soldier or minor, perhaps a merchant but nothing close to being a noble. As the thought crossed his mind, he rather liked the idea of it. She loved him for no other reason than himself and not his title. The idea to keep his name a mystery a little longer came to mind but as a twitch of impatient eagerness flashed across Asha's face he thought better of it.

"Thorin," he replied. "My name is Thorin."

Thorin had seen many reactions to his name. He had witnessed women swoon and even on one occasion, faint. He had seen the eyes of small children widen in disbelief of whom they were in the presence of. He had watched his elders gain an immediate respect within their eye as they made the connection of his name to his lineage. He had even observed people gnash their teeth before spitting and cursing his name right after. The latter reaction of course was reserved for those of the house Brimir.

So when he said his name aloud, he had expected a reaction similar to one of the many he had seen. What he did not expect was a complete and utter lack of a reaction.

The moment the name left his lips Asha became acutely aware of her insides as her stomach dropped and her heart felt as if a needle had been pushed through it.

As her innards reacted to the revelation, she kept her outer appearance passive and vacant as she processed the name. She knew that name, everyone knew that name. But she had to be sure. Perhaps she had heard wrong, or it was only a coincidence.

"Thorin," she said slowly. "As in _Prince _Thorin of Erebor?"

"Aye," he said hesitantly.

Asha's face paled to a ghostly white as she stared wordlessly at him. The names of the family pedigree she had been educated since a child to memorize played through her head. Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, the King of Erebor, and direct descendant of Durin himself.

She could not believe it. The cruel irony of their ill fated love had to be a punishment from Mahal himself.

What sin had she committed to have been given such a cruel punishment. The man she loved, her shadow, was a Durin. She had fallen in love with a man she was bred to hate.

As all of these revelations came crumbling down on top of her, there was one thing she was just barely able to notice.

As she looked at this man she felt nothing close to hatred. Everything she had been taught to feel was absent as she looked at the man before her. She was then given another revelation. Thorin had no clue as to who she was. He had not made the connection. And why would he? She had not given him her full name, not even thinking of the consequences that it would have.

Horror came to her at the thought of him learning the truth. Durin's were known to be stubborn and rigid in their ways of thinking. Despite what he felt for her now, it did not matter. If he knew the truth he would despise her.

She looked up into his face.

It was full of concern as he watched her closely, his eyes were soft and kind, full of love. The thought of that face being replaced with repulsion made her physically shutter.

She had to leave.

She could not risk it any longer. She could not bare the sight of him looking at her for what she was; a descendant of Brimir and an enemy to his family.

Thorin watched as a slight frown slowly began to pull her lips down and the brightness of her eyes seemed to diminish until they were dull. Panic began to make its way through his body.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

He moved to grasp her hand as he opened his mouth to question her change in countenance but the moment his hand touched hers she flinched away from him, as if his touch had burned her. His brows knitted together at her retraction but she gave no source of reason.

"Asha wha一"

She leapt to her feet, her face evasive of any emotion as she stood and looked down on him.

"I have to go, I have stayed out too late, my family will be worried," she stated in an abrupt monotone.

Before he could say, do, or think anything she sprinted away from the tree and away from him.

Thorin was left alone and at a loss for words. He stayed frozen in place as he watched her begin to make her ascent up the hill towards the compound.

Something snapped inside of him, he could not let her go. It was as if he had been struck by lighting and the electrical current that traveled through his body burned away at his insides and powered his muscles to move. His legs carried him in a mad dash towards the woman. His feet carried him swiftly across the grass to the bottom of the hill just as she managed to reach the top. Thorin pushed his muscles to move faster as he began to hear the noises of the early morning risers begin their day.

He crested the hill only to be met with a small mass of people moving about. Children laughed and played through the streets as their mothers yelled after them. Several men walked haggardly through the streets, nursing hangovers from the previous night, and servants ran about making preparations for the forthcoming ball that would be held later in the day. His eyes raked across the streets but to his dismay, there was no sign of Asha. He had lost her again.

* * *

Asha could not breath as she fought to keep her legs moving while holding back the sobs that cried out to be released. It was not until she reached the confines of her room that the dam holding back her tears crumbled and broke, releasing a flood that poured down her cheeks in large droplets.

Her chest ached with an icy burn and she could not tell if it was her lungs hurting for air or from her heart splitting apart. Her legs shook and gave out, causing her to crash painfully to the floor in a heap as gasping sobs escaped her lips. Her right hand clawed at the floor while her left clutched at her chest as she tried to relieve the overwhelming pain within her.

"My lady Asha!"

Mirrea's voice was nothing but a muted jumble of words to Asha's ringing ears. The older woman had just entered the room to check on her when she came upon the sight of the broken girl.

Thin but strong arms wrapped themselves around Asha and hugged her tightly. When she felt her hand being pried away from her chest it was only then that she acknowledged the older woman's presence. Red rimmed eyes bore into the maid's soft brown irises as Asha looked at her.

"He is a Durin," she managed to choke out between sobs. "Thorin is a Durin."

At first Meerea was confused by her charges words. Of course Thorin was a Durin. He was a Durin prince but why would Asha be so distraught over this revelation. It should not have been any news to her as she was schooled by her family to know this.

But then something clicked in her mind. Something that was utterly devastating and cruel.

"The shadow?" Mirrea asked.

Asha let out several ragged coughs as she tried to contain herself enough to answer. She nodded her head.

"He is Prince Thorin," she finally managed to confirm.

Mirrea felt her heart crumble. There would be no hope. It would have been better off if the man where a pauper. Even as an elf they would have better chances. But a Durin? It was unheard of, forbidden, doomed.

Mirrea could do nothing but hold the girl in her arms as she rocked the girl back and forth. When she had no more tears to shed and her eyes began to droop heavily, Mirrea helped the girl stand and undress from her dew soaked dress. Saying nothing, she helped the girl into the bed and sat with her, petting her tangled hair until the exhausted girl was fast asleep.

Mirrea was not a Brimir but she had lived in Dhom all her life. She never understood why the Durin's and Brimir's abhorred eachother but she understood the intensity of hatred between the two houses.

It was a hatred that Asha had never harbored in her own heart but nevertheless was expected to live by as a daughter of her family. As a Brimir princess, she was bound by blood to hate any and all Durin's. There would be no exceptions.

* * *

Thorin sat alone at a table in the dining hall as he pushed his food around his plate. He had spent nearly an hour searching the streets for Asha but had not even seen a single hair of her silky scarlet curls.

He had wandered aimlessly around until he found himself in the hall where he found a secluded seat at the end of the table and was lost to his thoughts.

Asha's reaction kept replaying across his mind. The change in her continence. Her face had been alight with a vibrant blush, her eyes shone with an energy, and her lips had been spread widely into a smile. Then he had uttered his name and everything changed. It was like watching the life being drawn from something and all that was left was emptiness. Then she had left... no...she had fled from his presence. Ran away as if she could not escape from him fast enough.

_What would cause such a reaction? Did his title truly terrify her so much?_

His thoughts were rudely interrupted when Frerin sat down next to him and slapped him on the back as Vili sat down across from him.

"Thorin, my dear friend," Vili said in a much too cheerful manor. "Wherever did you run off to last night?"

Thorin shot each of them an annoyed glare but set his fork down and leaned in to speak.

"I found her."

Thorin watched as both Frerin and Vili gaped at him. They then looked at eachother then back to him. In unison, they conspiratorially leaned in.

"You mean the girl you have spent all summer looking for?"

"Aye," replied Thorin.

Frerin looked around as if a girl would suddenly appear out of thin air.

"Well where is she?" Asked Vili. "I would think after all the pining you have done all summer you would have her chained to you at the hip."

Thorin's eye twitched.

"I did not pine for her," he defended.

Vili rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, either way, where is she?"

"She...she ran away," Thorin admitted with a frown.

"What happened? Did she finally see your face in a better light and realize she had mistaken an ogre for a dwarf?" His Brother asked jokingly.

Vili's and Frerin's laughter died quickly when they noticed Thorin's slumped figure. They each looked at each other and silently agreed that this was not a time to tease.

"Thorin," began Vili. "What exactly happened?"

Thorin shook his head.

"She found out who I was and ran away."

There was a short silence that followed his statement as neither of his companions knew how to immediately respond. Thorin let out a sigh.

"I just don't understand it," admitted Thorin. "I thought she would be overjoyed to learn who I was. But the moment she found out I was a prince, everything changed. It was like she feared me. Aren't women supposed to dream of having a prince fall in love with them?"

"Love?" Frerin questioned. "Thorin are you sure? You barely even know the girl. Do you even know what kingdom she is from? What station she is?"

"I know what I feel!" snapped Thorin. "And I don't care what station she is. She could be a homeless beggar for all I care."

Frerin held up his arms.

"Okay, okay," he conceded as he dropped the question.

"Maybe it was not fear," Vili suggested. "Maybe she was just intimidated by the fact that you are a prince."

Thorin looked up at his younger friend.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Vili began. "I am just saying, as an outsider to the noble world, it can be intimidating to meet someone of noble blood. Especially a royal."

He looked down at his hands which where laced in his lap as he tried to hide the tinge of red that was spreading across his cheeks.

Despite his attempt to hide it, it was obvious to both princes sitting across from him that he was blushing as they noticed the tips of his ears begin to glow.

"It is risking heartache to fall in love with someone above you. You never know if the family would approve," Vili added quietly.

Vili peaked up at the two princes when he finally felt the heat in his face ebb away. Both were looking at him with knowing smiles on their lips.

It was no secret that Vili was enamored with Dis ever since she reached womanhood and blossomed into the beautiful young lady that she was now. But it was a fact that was never openly addressed so they each silently continued to give the approval of such a match until Vili was ready to open up about it.

Frerin smiled fondly once more at the younger man before turning to Thorin.

"Vili is right," he said. "Perhaps she was just taken by surprise and is being cautious. You just have to talk to her."

Thorin scoffed.

"Yes because finding her the first time was just as simple."

"Ah," chimed in Vili. "You forget. This celebration has two more days and everyone in attendance will be at the ball tonight. And guess what my dear friend, your lady is here. So finding her might just _be_ that simple."

Thorin smiled at the blonde man. Vili was right. He would find her tonight and this time, he would make sure she could not escape without giving an explanation

* * *

Music filled the air in the heated room as dancers converged in the middle of the grand hall. At the edges, onlookers lined the perimeter of the dancefloor as they sipped their drinks and socialized in groups. Thorin stood at the end of the room on a raised platform in hopes that the vantage point would aid him in his quest to find the woman of his heart.

"Do you see her anywhere?" Vili asked next to him.

Thorin shook his head without looking at his friend. His eyes continued to search the overly crowded room. Suddenly he caught a familiar shade of hair and immediately his heart skipped a beat as his eyes traveled from her hair to her face. He could not keep the smile from flooding his face. He had found her.

She was standing on the opposite side of the room at the edge of where the Brimir family had gathered. She was speaking animatedly with an older woman and Thorin took a moment to take in her appearance.

She looked radiant as her cheeks possessed a warm glow from the heat of the room. Her hair was pinned away from her face and left to fall down her back, giving him access to observe the curve of her ivory neck. Her purple dress made her hazel eyes and red hair stand out. She was a vibrant bouquet of color.

He smiled when she laughed at something the other woman said. And although the dance hall was noisy with the ambiances of a well enjoyed party, Thorin could almost imagine he could hear her laughter as it played in his memories.

As if sensing herself being watched. Asha slowly glanced around the room. He watched her eyes move around until they were directed his way. He knew the moment she saw him because her smile and laughter froze along with the rest of her body.

Her eyes widened, and despite the shock and panic that he saw flash across her face, he could also see the longing and want hidden in her eyes. He took that faint glimmer as a good omen as the council of Vili and his brother from earlier that morning flashed in his mind. He needed to speak with her.

He started to walk towards her but he had only taken two steps before her eyes widened and her head shook slightly back and forth. Thorin looked at her in confusion and he could tell by the sympathetic way she looked at him that she had witnessed the hurt he had felt at the denying gesture.

He narrowed his eyes with determination and took another step but she only continued to look at him pleadingly.

Thorin could not understand it. Did she not want to be seen with him?

He shot her an inquisitive look but before she could respond, her attention moved away from him as someone touched her arm. Thorin froze as Asha looked up to a dark haired man that Thorin was all too familiar with.

His name was Ivor and he was a Brimir.

A feeling of contempt washed through his body as Asha gave Ivor a bright smile. Thorin knew he should not blame her but he could not help but feel a slight twinge of betrayal. He quickly had to remind himself that not everyone hated the Brimir's, only Durin's of Erebor. Those within the other kingdoms still graced themselves with their presence.

He should have not felt this way. She was allowed to socialize with whomever she wanted.

_But why did it have to be him?_

Compared to his family, Thorin did not really harber any personal feelings of hatred toward the Brimir's. He of course still had a preconceived idea of what they were all like and therefore had always sought to avoid them. But if there was one person of the Brimir family that he could truly attest to having a grudge with, it was Ivor.

Technically, Ivor was only a distant relative of the Brimir's through a series of marriages and, if Thorin remembered correctly, there was an adoption somewhere in the family ties as well.

Most people hardly considered him part of the Brimir clan as he was not related by blood. And it took several past generations in the complicated family tree to finally connect him to Brimir. But while he may not be a Brimir by blood, he was certainly a Brimir by heart. He was in close connections with the royal family of Dhom and he acted as though he were a prince himself.

Thorin hated competing with him at any tournament. And it was not even because he always lost. It was because he fought unconventionally and often broke the rules of conduct in a fair fight. What bothered Thorin the most was the fact that Ivor did not even have to cheat.

He was a masterful fighter and if Thorin where not so prideful he would even admit that he was one of the best fighters he had ever seen. But Ivor was cruel in the fighting ring and Thorin could not imagine he could be any different outside of the sparing circle. The fact that Asha seemed to so easily smile at him made his blood boil as his hatred for the man grew sevenfold.

He noticed Asha whispering something to Ivor who seemed to contemplate for a moment then nod. At this gesture, Asha gave Ivor a faint, grateful smile then let go of the arm that she had earlier been holding to and began to walk away.

Thorin followed her with his eyes as she moved along the stone wall to a side exit that lead into the gardens. Thorin immediately followed after. He took a different side exit that he knew would lead him in the same direction without having to walk anywhere near the Brimir side of the hall.

* * *

The cool air hit him the moment he stepped outside and it helped the earlier rage that had flowed through his blood calm and settle. He knew that he had been jealous and he did not want to be angry, at least not at Asha. He took in two deep and calming breaths just for good measure then let his eyes begin to search for the familiar red hair. It was an action that he had found to be a common occurrence as of late.

He only had to search for a few minutes before he finally found her. She was sitting at the side of a small fountain. Her legs were curled up against the cold stone as she leaned over the round edge of the fountains lower bowl. A finger trailed invisible patterns across the waters surface as she stared into the pool.

It was obvious she was unaware of his presence and he took a moment to watch and observe her. Her face was melancholy as she stared transfixed at the water that flowed from tier to tier until it pooled into the larger basin of water that she leaned against. A pale glimmer reflected from her cheek and it was then he realized that she had a small trail of tears falling down her face.

"If I believed they existed, I would almost think you were a water nymph and not a dwarf," Thorin said aloud as he stepped forward from the shadows.

At the sound of his voice Asha jumped and looked up from the rippling water she had been staring at. She thought she had slipped away unnoticed but here he was, standing before her.

She contemplated running away but she did not feel she had the energy. And if she were completely honest, she did not want to separate herself from him. She knew it would only make things hurt more but at the moment she did not care. She quickly wiped away a tear that had made its way down her cheek before looking back up at him.

"And what makes you say that?"

Her stomach clenched when his mouth curled into a smirk. He looked so handsome and all she wanted to do was to kiss those smirking lips. But instead she restrained herself and kept herself rooted to the spot. To her horror and yet at the same time, pleasure, he moved towards her.

"Because it seems like anytime I find you, you are always near water," he replied as he gestured to the fountain before slowly easing himself down to sit beside her.

Asha looked at the fountain and smiled softly.

"It does seem like that doesn't it," she said as she continued to stare at the water. "However I see a flaw in your theory."

"And what would that be?" She heard him ask.

"If I remember correctly, there was no water in the ballroom," she explained before looking up to see him watching her. "I am sorry to say, but I am nothing but a simple dwarrow maid."

Thorin smiled.

"Well I did say _if _I believed they existed and I also said I would _almost_ think you one," he said before slowly lifting a hand to tuck a stray hair behind her ear.

Her eyes closed at his touch and it took everything in his power not to swoop in and claim her lips. He needed to find clarification. She had been upset earlier that morning and he needed to know why. Even just a few minutes ago she had been crying. The redness in her eyes only paid testament to that. Her eyes slowly opened up and looked at him curiously.

"You do not believe they exist?"

"I have never seen one."

She gave him a look.

"That does not mean they do not exist."

"Perhaps," Thorin said with a contemplative tone. He gave her a concerned look and let his hand slowly wipe at the salted trail her earlier tears had left. "Why did you run away from me this morning?"

His words caused the earlier peaceful look on her face to fade as she looked back down at the water to avoid his eyes.

"You should go," she whispered quietly. "It is best if we do not see each other anymore."

Thorin furrowed his brow as he mouth curved down into a frown.

"Why not?" he probed.

Asha shook her head as she bit her lip and her eyes bristled with unshed tears.

"It's complicated," she answered vaguely.

Thorin cupped her cheek and gently forced her to look at him.

"Then explain it to me," he coaxed.

Her eyes sparkled as she slowly met his eyes before the wave of tears broke free and flooded her face. She shook her head and quickly stood.

"I have to go," she quickly stammered before turning to leave.

Here attempt to flee went unsuccessful this time as Thorin had been expecting this. With quick movement he had her wrist caught in his hand as he firmly held on to it. She tried to yank herself free but his iron grip held fast.

"NO," Thorin all but shouted. "Not until you explain to me what is going on? Why can't we see each other?"

She shook her head frantically and tried to pull herself away again.

"We just can't. It would never work."

"Why won't it work? Is it because of who I am? Is it because I am a prince?"

Asha's mind was frantic, she needed to tell him something, it was obvious that he would be too stubborn to let vague answers satisfy his questions. But she was too afraid to tell him the heart crushing truth. So she did the next best thing. She told a half truth.

"Yes," she blurted out.

Thorin stared at her.

_So it was because of his title._

He set his face firmly.

"You don't have to worry about that," he assured her. "My family would never be able to reject you. They will welcome you into their lives with open arms. You are too perfect."

His reassurance seemed to only fall on deaf ears as Asha continued to shake her head and tried to twist herself free of his grip.

"No," she choked. She was now sobbing as tears flowed quickly down her cheek and replaced with others before the previous had even managed to fall from her smooth skin. "They will be appalled by me."

Thorin's grip faltered at her words. He could not believe that she could ever think herself so low. He did not understand how she could think his family so cruel that they would deny him a chance of blissful happiness.

He needed her to understand that he would not be able to live his life without her. It was already too late for him to let her go, it was too late that first night he laid eyes on her.

He felt her hand slid through his clutch the moment his grip loosened and she began to move away from him but he was quick to grab ahold of her again. To his utter surprise she maneuvered herself quickly, taking him by surprise as she performed the defensive maneuver.

It was at the skill level of a trained fighter and he almost contemplated how she had learned such a move but was distracted as she escaped his grip and began to run.

Thorin sprinted after her and caught her within three strides. This time being more aggressive, he wrapped his arms around her and dragged her to a stone wall before pinning her against the bricks laid in neat rows.

"Please let me go," she begged.

Slowly he let his head fall forward until his forehead was pressed against hers. She paused in her struggle and Thorin let his grip on her shoulders loosen as he moved his hands up her neck and along her jaw.

"I can't do that," he said in a soft whisper as he tilted her head to look up at him. "Even if I wanted to...I could never let you go."

Thorin was not sure if it was him or her that moved first but he soon found himself kissing her with desperation. Her lips moved with his with just as much want and need as his did. He pressed her tightly against the wall as his hands moved to cradle her neck and pull her closer. He felt her hands which had been hanging limply at her sides just moments ago move up the front of his shirt and still at his chest. He relished in the touch of her hands but it was cut short when he felt the same hands push firmly against his chest and forced him to take a few steps back as she shoved him with all the force she could muster.

He watched as Asha stared at him with a broken look on her face. Her eyes were full of pain, as if it physically hurt to have him near her.

"I am sorry," she said in a shaky voice. "But I cannot do this."

And then for the second time that day, she ran away from him with a swiftness that he could not keep up with. He followed after but only for a short while before she disappeared and he was left alone, yet again, to wonder why someone who loved him so much would run away from him.


	4. The Course of True Love Never Did Run Smooth

Thorin leaned against the supporting pillar as the gathering of dwarves from all over celebrated the anniversary of the honored couple. Thorin could not believe that it had already been a year since the wedding had taken place. At the same time, another thought crossed his mind. It had _only_ been a year since he first met her.

_Asha_.

The name he had forbidden to be uttered or thought by himself yet it still seemed to frequent his mind. Perhaps it was the small stone and folded paper that was currently in his pocket that made it difficult to keep her from not wandering into his mind. For every time his hand brushed against his side and he felt the hard stone hidden in the fabric of his pocket, he thought of her. And every time he reached into his pocket and felt the soft parchment at the tips of his fingers, his body tingled with the memory of her touch. He had tried to break the habit of placing such items in his pocket. That had lasted about half a week before he went back to his old habits to remedy the stroke of panic he felt each time he noticed their absence.

To say he had been hurt by Asha's rejection was an understatement. He had been wounded to the point it was almost crippling. He could hardly function for the first month. Despite the mass of time that had passed since he watched her flee from him, the injury in his heart felt just as fresh now as it had then.

But it was not even the rejection that had hurt him the most. It was the fact that she could not give him a reason. She had said it was because he was a prince and at the time he had believed it. She had sounded sincere but the more he thought about it, the more he doubted it. It did not make sense. There was something missing. A bigger piece behind the reason as to why she would refuse their happiness. But it was a mystery that he feared could only be answered by her and his odds of every seeing her again were slim.

The clinking of metal sounded throughout the large room bringing everyone's attention to the man standing on the staircase and tapping his goblet.

He stood several steps up to let himself be seen by the gathering of dwarves within the room. Thorin looked at the man and recognized him immediately. He was a large man, tall for a dwarf and massive in muscle. He held himself with an air of authority and command. If his posture was not enough to tell them this, then the crown adorning his head was proof enough.

He was King Rangar, the ruling monarch of Dhom and the head of the Brimir clan.

"My friends," he greeted with a deep voice that filled the room. "We are all here to gather and celebrate the anniversary of two people that we all give our best wishes and may they have many more years of happiness."

He paused to let the crowd give out a cheer of agreeance as the happy couple nodded in thanks to the praise and well wishes. After a moment he raised his hand in the air for silence. As the clapping and cheering died down, King Rangar continued.

"I do not wish to take away the notoriety from our couple who is being honored tonight. But they have granted me with their blessing to share some happy news on this already happy day."

Thorin heard a snort beside him and looked to his left to see his brother take a stance beside him with his arms crossed and eyes rolling.

"Please," he said in a snarky tone. "Like that man gave them a choice. He probably threatened to sacrifice their first born child to a balrog if they did not let him have the center of attention."

Thorin's lips curled into an amused smile.

While King Rangar did have an arrogant ego, he was not one to make such threats. He did not need to. Being monarch of a Kingdom that held the strongest and largest army of all the dwarf kingdoms had that sort of benefit. That was there specialization. Weapons and soldiers.

There was no need to make threats because everyone feared to upset him and suffer the consequences. The only Kingdom that did not go out of their way to appease him was Erebor. But that did not matter because King Rangar did not make requests to Erebor.

"As you all know I was never blessed with a son."

Thorin let his attention move back to King Rangar as he half heartedly listened to the man's speech. In his opinion there was nothing the man could say that could really matter to him. He had no care, no need, to know what went on within the Brimir's lives or kingdom.

"...Ivor has alway been like a son to me."

Thorin rolled his eyes at the mention of his younger peer.

"...only child and daughter has just come of age this past spring…"

Thorin let out a sigh and crossed his arms as he gazed up at the large chandelier that lit the room and proved to be more interesting to him as he tuned in and out to the words being said.

"...and it is my great pleasure to finally announce that by this time next year I shall have gained another child, I will have made Ivor my son. Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great pleasure to announce the betrothal of Ivor, son of Ivan, to my own daughter, princess Rashava. The heir to the Brimir throne. They are to be wed in one years time."

As the crowd burst into loud cheers, another scoff sounded next him as Frerin listened to the King's speech.

"So it seems Ivor finally wormed his way into the position he always thought he was," Frerin muttered.

Thorin grunted in agreeance as he tried to ignore the annoyance he felt. He hated that Ivor could be fated so well. And how he dreaded the thought of any future interaction with him as it would be even worse than before. Ivor would not just act like a crown prince, he would be a crown prince.

"Will all of you please welcome my daughter and her betrothed. The future King and Queen of Dhom."

As King Ragnar called for their welcome, Thorin finally looked down from the chandelier to look around the room. There was a series of clapping and cheers that filled the air, a noticeable lack of enthusiasm in his section of the room amongst the Durin's. Then he looked to King Rangar to see him smiling with his hand outstretched to indicate to the top of the stairs. Thorin followed his gesture and let his eyes wander up to the top of the stairs.

Standing like the proud man he was with an inflated ego, was Ivor. He looked down at the crowd below with his chest puffed up and a sickeningly arrogant smile plastered on his face. He raised a hand in gratitude to the multitudes of cheers then lowered it as he offered it to the woman standing beside him as he began to escort her down the stairs. It was only then that Thorin had even noticed the feminine presence beside his rival. His eyes traveled from their entwined arms up to her face.

It was as if the world had come to a sudden stop as the cheers where silenced by the ringing in his ears until it too became muted. For one full breath, Thorin could have sworn he had gone deaf before the reality of everything came crashing down on him as the cheers, now sounding ten times louder than before, raided his ears and consumed his ability to process thought.

Thorin did not understand it. If Ivor was betrothed to Princess Rashava, then why in Mahal's name was he escorting Asha down the stairs.

He stared at her in shock and disbelief. His mouth parted as he took in one strained breath after another. His blue eyes blinked rapidly, hoping that one of the times his eyes opened he would see someone else next to Ivor.

But each time he opened his eyes he was greeted with the same horrifyingly implausible image of Asha walking down the stairs.

He could not believe it. He would not believe it. It was impossible. There had to be a mistake. But despite his mind refusing to accept such a fact there was no other logical answer.

The couple came to a stop on the same stair as King Rangar and his wife, Queen Hava, walked up the few steps to join her husband who had wrapped an arm around Asha as she came to stand next to him.

Thorin immediately saw the striking resemblance between Asha and Queen Hava. They had the same hair and eyes, as well as the same flawless ivory complexion. Where Asha lacked in similarity with Queen Hava, the features could be found on King Rangar's face. The same nose and bone structure. King Rangar smiled and for the first time, Thorin noticed that it was the same smile that he had grown to love and cherish when adorning Asha's face.

Even with this evidence, Thorin could not find it in himself to believe it. His right hand gripping the stone in his pocket began to throb as it pressed sharply against the bones in the palm of his hand. He loosened his grip to relieve the pain only to feel the brush of paper against the back of his hand.

Thorin's eyes moved down to where his hand disappeared into his pocket and suddenly his mouth became dry.

Heart full of dread, Thorin pulled the folded note from his pocket and with shaking hands he slowly turned it over to reveal the rounded wax seal that had once held it shut.

It was broken where the seam of the paper had once been held shut and pieces had broken off and scratched from being carried around in his pocket for the past year. But even though it was slightly distorted, there was no mistaking the imprint. His heart stopped as his chest became incapable of moving the air to and from his lungs.

Stamped in the middle of the round pool of hardened wax was the Brimir family crest.

Thorin stared at the offending insignia in disbelief. He could not fathom the possibility that he had this heart wrenching truth at his side for an entire year and never noticed. But as he stared at the evidence within his hand and factored in the similarities she shared with the King and Queen she now stood beside, he could no longer deny it. Asha was a Brimir.

* * *

Asha walked through the garden as she breathed in the warm night air. She had stepped out of the overheated room in hopes to feel the cool refreshing breeze on her face. But instead she was hit with the stale warm air leftover from the earlier overly warm day.

She caught sight of the familiar pool of water at the end of the hedge and decided to make her way over in hopes that the air would be slightly cooler at the water's edge. As she reached the waters shore she looked out across the glassy surface and let out a long sigh.

It had been exactly a year since she stood in this very spot. She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of the water lilies that fanned out along the edge of the water.

So much had changed.

One year ago she had escaped the wedding party with only the intention of spending a few moments of solitude and peace. Never had she expected to find herself caught in the whirlwinds of romance. Never had she expected to be engaged to a different man on the anniversary of that fateful night.

"I once thought I saw a water nymph at the edge of these waters."

She startled at the sudden voice and turned around to see the owner of the voice laying on the stone bench that stood a small distance where she stood. She knew she should not have been surprised by his presence, in fact, she had expected it. But it seemed that no matter how hard she had prepared herself to see him again, it had all been in vain.

The moment her mother told her of the intended engagement between herself and Ivor, Asha had done her best to try erase the feeling she had felt for Thorin. She had thought it worked. But at the sound of his voice, she felt all of those emotions come rushing up from the dark depths in which she had tried to bury them.

"I thought you did not believe in their existence?"

At her reply, she watched his head slowly turn to the side and look at her. She tried to read him but it was too dark to make out any distinguishing features.

Surely he knew of her heritage now. But his seemingly calm demeanor was making it difficult to tell. She had always been so sure that he would yell and curse her name the moment he found out who she was.

Her speculation of whether or not he now knew who she was became interrupted when he moved.

Slowly, he sat up and face her with his feet set firmly on the grass. He then stood up as he continued to look at her. She saw him push his hands into his pockets and handle something that lay within the fabrics of his coat.

"I did," he confirmed while taking a few steps closer and looking past her towards the water. "But according to the tales, water nymphs are known to be quite manipulative. They lie and play tricks just to toy with mens hearts. So perhaps I had been too hasty to assume their lack of existence. Isn't that right..."

He was now standing only a step away from her and she could now clearly see his face. He turned his head to look directly into her eyes which had followed him with every step he took towards her.

"...Asha?" He said her name like a whisper before quirking his eyebrow and looking at her quizzically. "Or is Rashava?" he asked with a tilt of his head and slight bitterness to his tone. "Tell me Princess, are you Brimir's so starved for entertainment up there in the North that you take enjoyment in others pain?"

His last words were cold and Asha instantly knew that there was no denying it now. He knew the truth. He now knew she was a Brimir.

She looked down at her feet and and fought off the burning she felt building up in her eyes. She knew this day would come. Despite her efforts to try and delay this day until the far far future, it seemed that it had finally approached and it was far too soon. She was not emotionally ready. She was not over her feelings.

Thorin saw the hurt that had flashed across her face the moment his harsh words left his mouth and he immediately wished he could take them back. He had meant for them to hurt her and by her reaction he had been successful. But seeing her being hurt did not leave him with the satisfaction he had been hoping for.

He suppressed the growl of frustration he wanted to let loose from his lungs. He was conflicted and confused. He had come out here to try and make sense of the anger, hate, and hurt that was flowing through his body.

He had thought he had almost come to accept the terms and conditions to be angry with her but then he had seen her walk out from the hedgeway and gaze out across the water. He had seen the tired and sad expression on her face. He had heard the long sigh that had escaped her lungs as her shoulders slouched and head bowed. She was not happy. In fact, she had looked about as miserable as he had felt for the past three seasons.

While he waited for her reply. He took the opportunity to look at her. She looked older now that she wore her hair up but yet her face still seemed to hold the innocence she had held a year ago. She was still Asha.

"My full name is Rashava but my friends and family call me Asha."

Her small voice broke Thorin from his thoughts of conflicted feelings and he watched as she took in a breath before raising her head to look him in the eye.

"I did not know who you really were until I learned your name. That is why I had left so abruptly that morning. I did not know what to do. I did not know what to say."

"And the other time?" he asked. "When I approached you and asked you for a reason. Why did you not tell me who you were then?"

The reminder of her failure to provide him with the reason why she no longer wanted him to be near her stung and refueled his earlier anger. An emotion that was present in his tone when he spoke.

Again he saw Asha's face flinch with hurt as she looked down at her feet again as if ashamed by his chastising tone.

"I did not tell you who I was because I did not want you to look at me in that way?"

"In what way?" he asked, his tone softened by his confusion.

She lifted her head to meet his eye again.

"In the way you are looking at me now. Contempt, disgust…" she paused for a moment before whispering "...hatred."

At her words Thorin became aware of his expression and realized she was correct. His eyes were narrowed and his brow was furrowed as his mouth was pulled back into the grimace of a frown. He softened his features slightly before she continued.

"I did not want to see the person I love look at me in such ways."

Her admission pulled something with him.

"You mean loved?"

She looked at him in confusion.

"You said love. But that is obviously no longer possible. So what you meant to say was that you did not want to see the person you loved look at you in such a way."

A strange sadness fell over her face as she stared at him. He could see her eyes move over his face and body as she examined every inch of him. Then, as if finding some conclusion in her assessment of him she shook her head.

"No," she said firmly. "I meant what I said. There was no mistake."

Thorin was struck dumb by her statement. She still loved him?

His heart beat wildly at the thought as if celebrating the joyous news. He stared at her, wishing and wanting to say the same thing but was stopped when he recalled a certain fact.

"If you love me, then why are you getting married to another man? How could you have ever loved me when you were being courted by another man. I saw you with him last summer at the ball. Of all the people, why him? How can you say you love me yet still harbor the same feelings for a man such as him."

His spiteful tone was back. Her mouth turned down into a frown at his statement but she did not look away this time. This time she kept her eyes set on his.

"That arrangement is entirely my parents. Ivor was nothing but my escort last summer as I was not yet of age. It was on my birthday that my parents told me of their intentions. As a daughter, I have no other choice but to obey. I am the only child of my parents. The man I marry will be the next King," she shook her head slowly from side to side. "I should have known, in fact I always suspected it. My father hand picked and groomed Ivor to be like a son to him, like an heir. Deep down I always knew it would be my fate, I just never thought it would come so early."

Thorin grimaced for a moment but let his face smooth out as he looked at her with soft eyes.

"So you do not love him?"

His voice sounded desperately hopeful but at this point, Thorin did not care. All he wanted was her answer. All he wanted was to hear that he still possessed every part of her heart.

Despite the fact that he knew it would be for the best that she deny any feelings for him. He could not help but be selfish.

It felt like an eternity for her to react to his question. Finally, she shook her head.

"No," she said. "I share a companionship, perhaps even friendship but nothing more than that."

She folded her arms and looked back towards the gardens to where the celebration was still in commence.

"I should probably go," she said in a strained voice and Thorin noticed the glistening of tears in her eyes. "They will be missing me soon and will come to look for me."

Thorin was prepared to let her walk away, he was going to let her walk away but then she spared him a glance as she walked by to enter back into the hedge.

All will power was taken from him. There was no possible way he could have prevented it from happening the moment she looked at him. His arm reached out on its own accord and before either of them knew what was happening, she was encircled in his arms and their lips crashed together.

It was like taking a drink of cool fresh water after a trek through the desert. Life giving and rejuvenating.

Thorin did not realize how truly miserable he had been through the winter and spring seasons until now. It felt blissfully and completely right and when they broke away, he knew that it would be wrong to never partake of her nourishing lips again.

As they each breathed heavily, Thorin rested his forehead against hers as he let his hands caress her face and entwined his fingers in her soft hair. He closed his eyes and breathed in the her familiar scent that his body and lungs had been craving for far too long. Her small hands moved to his wrists as she let her fingers caress and tickle the inner and more sensitive skin of his forearm.

"I really should go," she said between breaths but making no effort to move.

Thorin opened his eyes to see that see was already staring up at him.

"We cannot be seen together," she explained.

Thorin wanted to protest but he knew she was right.

Before they did not know the dangers as their ignorance blinded them of their position. But the reality of their situation was much more dire than he could have ever imagined. In a strange sense it was nearly the equivalent to committing treason.

He nodded and she stepped away to leave.

"Wait," Thorin called as he quickly grabbed her hand. She stopped and looked up at him and his heart went out to her. How he had missed those eyes. "When will I see you again?"

At first he was afraid that she would tell him never when her brow creased but then she bit her lip as if thinking deeply.

"We are leaving the day after tomorrow," she said softly.

"Tomorrow night then," Thorin requested. "Meet me here. At midnight. You should be able to sneak away and we shall not be seen as everyone will be asleep."

She smiled and nodded.

"I will be there," she promised. Then without another word she ran off, leaving Thorin alone and feeling happier than he had felt in a long time.


	5. To Turn Your Households' Rancor to Pure Love

Asha did keep her word. She met him that very next night and they met again two weeks later when they were both in attendance to the birthday of a mutual friend of both families. Then again three weeks later when their families gathered with the other kingdoms to discuss trading routes. Their meetings where far and few over the course of the next few months. And while they were often times limited to the hours of the late night, they each made every precious second count.

In the times between their midnight rendezvous, they watched and admired from afar. Simple exchanges that only went noticed by the other.

A glance from the corner of their eye, a hidden smile, or a slight nod that would seem like an innocent twitch to anyone else. But to them, those gestures were simple affirmations of their feelings towards each other.

The weeks in between events were the hardest. But they were made bearable by the secret messages sent by raven. Each passing note was a crutch to get them through the long and lonely weeks until they were finally joined back together. Each time they feared the other would break away but that fear was banished each time they were reunited and drawn to each others lips in an instant.

* * *

Frerin stepped out into the late midsummer night. The lingering heat of the stronghold in which he and his family were being housed had left him restless. He had tossed and turned for nearly four hours and decided that perhaps a short walk outside would give him the weariness he needed to overcome the discomfort of the heat and finally let sleep prevail.

He quickly found a stone path to follow that led towards a small wooded area not far from the outer walls of the main house. He followed the path until it reached the woods and decided to extend his walk for just a little while longer. Only two minutes into his wooded walk he heard a sound of rustling and the low murmuring of voices.

Overtaken by curiosity as to who else would be up at night, Frerin stealthy made his way towards the sound. At first he could only make out two figures, but there was no telling who they were. The only conclusion he could make was that it was a man and a woman. This answer made possible by the deep murmur of the man's lows voice and the soft giggle of the woman. A soft breeze caused a rustle of leaves as the branches above shifted and let the pale silver moonlight illuminate the mans face. Frerin stared in disbelief.

The man was Thorin.

Frerin felt his eyes widen as he saw his brother smiling down at the mysterious woman that was his companion. From his position, Frerin could not make out the woman. She was facing away from him and the canopy of trees above cast a shadow over where she stood.

He watched as Thorin slowly raised his hand to the womans face and with gentle motion, moved her hair behind her ear.

Frerin was unable to fathom that this was really his brother. He had never seen his brother show such a gentle nature. He had never seen Thorin smile so tenderly. He knew his brother had been smitten by a nameless and faceless woman just last summer. But even then he never saw his brother in this manor.

When Thorin first approached him that he had met a woman Frerin was overjoyed. He loved his brother, but his brother was too serious at times.

When Thorin that had first approached him, his behavior was just slightly altered from his usual stoic presence. He had been so eager, so determined to find the woman that Frerin even began to worry that his infatuation with the damsel was becoming an unhealthy obsession. But then Thorin had said he found her and Frerin could see the lightness in his eyes. His usually high strung brother had finally relaxed and looked happier than Frerin had ever seen his brother. But then something happened to that lightness. It was at the end of the summer and Frerin could only guess it was heartbreak.

Thorin had been shut off from him all winter. It had been even worse than before Thorin had ever met the lass. Frerin hardly saw him smile for months on end and he often wondered if he would ever heal. Frerin knew his brother was not one to be open. He often suppressed things and in his own time he would open up. He usually tried to give to give Thorin his space but he had come severely close to confronting his brother about it.

But again, something had changed. The doom and gloom persona Frerin had come to associate as his brother over the winter and spring months seemed to have disappeared suddenly. Frerin could not pinpoint the exact time but he had noticed it. Oftentimes he caught Thorin smiling to himself or gazing off into the distance as if his mind were on things far from where he was.

Before Frerin had no clue as to what had caused the change nor did he care. He was just happy to have his brother back. Now, as he witnessed the scene before him he was absolutely positive that this woman was the reason. There was no comparing the lightness he had seen in his brother last summer to the magnitude of Thorin,s current expressions. There was no mistaking it as Frerin now gazed at his brother. Thorin was enraptured by this woman.

To Frerin's surprise Thorin abruptly swooped in and captured the woman's lips. Her arms immediately moved up his chest, to his neck, and tangled into his dark hair. They moved together until he had her pressed against a large tree as his hands began to trace her curves and pull at her skirt as he let out a low primal growl of pleasure.

Both appalled and impressed at Thorin's ability to drop all rules of propriety, Frerin took this as his cue to leave. Not able to keep the smile on his face for being happy that his brother had found his love, Frerin moved to leave.

Just as he was about to turn away, Thorin moved down to spread kisses down the woman's jaw and neck, causing the woman to lean her head against the bark of the tree as a gasp of appreciation to Thorin's ministrations escaped her lips. As her face tilted up to give him better access, it came into a sliver of moonlight that illuminated her face.

Despite his earlier haste to leave the two lovers alone with their passions, he froze and stared. His eyes widened and he shook his head from side to side as he shut his eyes tightly. He must be suffering from a delusion of the heat mixed with his exhaustion because he there was no possible way he had seen what he had thought he had seen. He opened his eyes again and looked at the woman, hoping beyond hope that he would see something different than before. He swallowed and then looked back at the womans face. His heart sank into the pit of his stomach.

There had been no mistake, he knew that face, and he knew the name that belonged to that face.

What made the situation even worse was the fact that he knew that Thorin knew these things as well. He felt sick as bitter bile rose in the back of his throat. There were so many things wrong with the situation. This woman was spoken for and due to marry in less than a year. This woman was a Brimir. This woman was none other that Princess Rashava.

Unable to think straight, Frerin turned and left the forest. His mind raced for a source of inspiration of what to do. He swallowed with difficulty. Should he tell someone? Should he keep it a secret? If this knowledge became public there would be no telling what kind of natural disaster level of a catastrophe would follow. There would be no way to predict the carnage or disruption it would leave in its wake.

He shook his head. No, he would not tell anyone. However, he would put a stop to it. He would talk to Thorin. He did not know what level of relationship he had with the girl but from what he saw he could tell it was deep. It would not be easy as Thorin was well known for his stubbornness but he would make him see sense. There was no other option. This had to be stopped.

* * *

Thorin has been awake for some time but his eyes remained closed as he did his best to keep his body still. He was enjoying the moment too much and wanted to make it last as long as possible. The warmth and faint pressure on his right shoulder and side was one of the best feelings he had ever experienced. Never in his life had he slept so well than on the nights he had her by his side.

Given the lack of light against his eyelids, he knew morning had still yet to come and he dreaded the moment when it would. He wished he could stay like this forever. He wished his blissful state would not be abruptly ended the moment light was shed into their world. While he loved the time he had with her, he could not help but be selfish. He wanted more.

He felt a tickle across his neck as a thin finger traced the area where his pulse beat beneath his skin. He shivered and his free hand automatically moved to swat at the offending finger. She let out a small giggle before retracting her hand and pushed herself up from his shoulder to lean over his face.

"I knew you were awake," she said in mocked accusation.

Thorin lifted one eyelid to be greeted with an angelic vision before his eyes as Asha looked down at him with a tranquil expression on her face. Her lips were curled into a soft smile while her eyes gazed down on him with nothing less than pure adoration and love. Her red hair was vibrant as ever even in the dim room and fell down around them to create a curtained world that contained only the two of them. Thorin opened his other eye, eager to drink in more of the beautiful woman above him. He reached a hand up to stroke her cheek and run his fingers through her hair.

"How do you know I did not just awaken?" he challenged.

Her smile grew.

"Because you are not ticklish when you are asleep," she replied.

Thorin lifted a brow.

"How often do you tickle me?" he asked suspiciously.

She lifted a finger and tapped him on the tip of his nose as her lips split into an impish smile which gave her a paradoxical look on her otherwise angelic face.

"Only when I watch you sleep," she said slyly.

Thorin huffed in amusement before rolling his eyes. He closed his eyes and tucked his arm behind his head while the other lazily drew small circles on her bare back.

"And how often is that?" he asked as his mind relaxed into a state of conscious sleep.

He felt her shift on the bed before she had curled herself closer while still supporting herself in an inclined position. Soft fingers then began to trace his face. The curve of his lips, along his jawline, around his eyes. As she began to trace the lines on his forehead one by one he felt her lean in and kiss his brow before returning to her earlier position and let her hands move from his face to his chest.

"Not nearly enough," she answered quietly.

Thorin was nearly lost to sleep when he heard her answer his long forgotten question. He felt something wet fall onto his chest and run down his side. His first thought was that it was raining. But when he realized the absurdity of that as they were inside, his eyes snapped open and he tilted his head to see Asha staring down at his chest, her finger paused mid circle as another tear ran down her face to splash against his skin.

He shot up and caught the next tear with his thumb before it could fall. As the next one began to run down her face he wiped it away and tilted her face to look up at him.

In the dim light of the room he could see the distress in her eyes as well as the pain. A polar opposite contrast to what he had witnessed being presented on the very same face only moments ago.

"What is wrong?" he asked in concern.

Asha's face cringed just before she fell forward and buried her face into his chest. Any control she had earlier shattered against him as large sobs escaped her mouth and the tears began to flow more quickly. Distress and alarm coursed through Thorin's mind.

This was not the first time something like this had happened and he was confident it would not be the last. He hated these moments. He hated to see her cry. He hated to see her unhappy. But the reality of it was that he too felt the same way. But it would do her no good if he were to let her see this as well.

So instead he did what he always did. He pulled her into his lap and hugged her to his chest as he rested his chin against her hair and rocked her.

As his soothing hands lulled her as he stroked her hair, he finally laid her down to sleep for a few more hours before their heavenly sanctuary was plundered by daylight and she would be forced to leave his room and his side until darkness overtook the world again. He both prayed for and cursed the night. He loved it for giving them the shroud in which they could hide their affair but hated it for the same reason. He did not want to hide.

As he watched her sleep, he realized that he no longer wanted to see her in darkness.

He reached out a rough finger and traced her lips. An unpleasant flash of Ivor kissing those lips made him frown. They never discussed her relationship with Ivor. It was a forbidden taboo that neither of them was willing to bring up when with each other. But just because it was not discussed, it did not mean that Thorin thought about it. And he did not just think about it, he obsessed about it.

It was usually on the nights when he lay alone in his own bed in Erebor and it had been weeks, sometimes even just days since he had seen her. He always knew that this would never end happily on his part. Asha was promised to another, she would be married to another. In reality even if she were not already betrothed, she would still never be his. Even if Ivor never existed, they still would never be. Their families hated each other, it was the plain and simple fact. It would never be approved.

The only silver lining he could muster into his thoughts was that at least his family would not be invited to the wedding. He would not be forced to watch her bind herself to another man.

He continued to trace her lips as she slept. Those beautiful full lips would no longer be his to kiss all too soon. They would no longer be his to listen to as they whispered tender feelings or released joyful laughs. His finger paused halfway through drawing a line across her bottom lip. A sudden idea came to his mind. It was irrational and improbable. If it did not work it would most likely destroy their futures. But if it worked, it would undoubtedly guarantee their happiness and possibly even mend the gap between their families.

Her shook her shoulder. "Asha, wake up."

At first she scrunched her eyes and nose in annoyance as she slothfully tried to push his hand away. He called her name again and this time her eyes snapped open and she shot up in the bed. Her face one of panic as she looked around the room.

"What! Is it daylight!"

Without waiting for an answer she immediately flung the covers from the bed and frantically began to collect her clothes. She was stopped when Thorin grabbed her shoulder and pulled her to the side of the bed. Pushing her down to sit on its edge he stood in front of her with his hands on her shoulders.

"Calm down, you still have some time before you will need to return to your chambers," he assured her.

Her shoulders relaxed and she let out a breath of relief. Her eyes closed for a moment before they snapped back open and looked at him with curiosity.

"Then why did you wake me?" she asked. "You gave me such a fright."

Thorin smiled. "Yes," he confessed. "And I am sorry about that. But I have an idea, one that will solve all of our problems."

"Idea? Problems? What problems?"

"The one where you and I are forced to meet in secret. The one that ends with you being married to a man you do not love. The one that we have blissfully ignored this whole summer. The one that will ultimately result in a lifetime of misery and unhappiness that is our reality."

She still continued to look at him with confusion and curiosity. "And you have a way to just magically erase generations of hatred that has caused the majority of those problems?"

Thorin frowned at her skeptical tone.

"I don't want you to marry Ivor," he said firmly.

She frowned at this statement. She knew Thorin's dislike to Ivor despite her assurance that he was a good man and he treated her well. But anything she ever said about Ivor fell on deaf ears. It was the reason why they agreed to never mention her betrothal.

"Thorin," she began in a voice laced with saddened pity.

Any words she was going to utter after his name were lost when he made his next move. He kneeled down before her and grasped her small hands in his. He stared at her knuckles for a moment before looking up at her wide eyes.

"Marry me Asha," he breathed.

She stared at him with disbelief and want. It was as if everything she ever wanted and desired was laid before her and all she had to do was say a single word. But no matter how much she wanted it. She remained mute. Her throat was paralyzed and useless. Her mind screamed at her to utter one word that would grant her deepest desire but her body still remained unresponsive.

She imagined what it would be like to be married to Thorin. To fall asleep in his arms and wake up in his arms every day without worry or panic should they sleep too late. She thought about what their children would look like. Would they have his blue eyes? Would they have her red hair? She thought about it all until suddenly she noticed that something was missing in her vision. Her family. His family.

"They would never let us," she finally managed to whisper.

Thorin did not need specification as to who THEY were. Their parents, their families, their clan's. They would not even stay in the same room together for a long enough time for them to even ask it of them. But despite her answer, Thorin remained determined.

"Then we don't ask permission," he suddenly blurted. He stood slightly to sit beside her on the edge of the bed as he pet her hair. "We can elope. Then they would have no choice but to accept."

"But who would do it?" she asked. "Who would perform the marriage? Who would risk the ire of both our families?"

Thorin thought for a moment. Again, she was right to question his plan. Anyone willing would be taking a great risk by going against, not just one, but two of the most powerful dwarven kingdoms. But again, his mind procured an answer as his thoughts turned to one man.

"Lord Frilaur," he answered. "He would do it."

Asha contemplated his answer. _Lord Frilaur_. If there was a man who hated the feud between the Durin's and the Brimir's more than the families despised each other, it was him. His estate was located between the borders of the two kingdoms. He was not in fealty with either kingdom but each kingdom valued and regarded him with the utmost respect.

In return he paid homage to both kingdoms regardless of his non existent obligation to them. And it just so happened that they were currently guests in his home.

He watched as her eyes lit up with hope. But all too quickly did the light fade as her shoulders began to slump. She looked down at her hands that were now folded in her lap.

"And if they do not accept?" she asked quietly.

Thorin's brow creased. "What do you mean? They would not have a choice to accept. We would already be married."

She shook her head.

"But they still have to acknowledge it," she countered as she looked back up to him. "It is not about if they will accept the marriage. But what if they do not accept us being married? They could disown us." She put a hand on his as she looked deeply in his eyes as she tried to stress the potential consequences. "We are both the heirs the our respective thrones. If we did this we are risking disownment. Your family could easily make your brother the next heir without batting an eye but mine…" She hesitated. "My family does not have another heir...but if forced, I do believe my father would resort to adopting Ivor as his official heir without marriage."

She took in a deep breath.

"Are you willing to risk giving up your right to the throne for this?"

Thorin breathed in and out as he processed her question. Her eyes moved from one side to the other as she watched his face for any indication to what he was thinking. But just as he started to contemplate the alternative, a life without her, he knew his answer.

"Yes," he said in a firm answer.

He was not sure if it was relief or surprise that washed across her face but whichever, he did not care.

"Are you willing?" he asked taking both her hands in his. "Are you willing to give up your throne to be married to a penniless exile?"

She smiled at him and let out a small laugh. "Only if that man is you."

* * *

Thorin could not keep the grin from his face. There was a heavy cloud cover that day but it felt brighter than any cloudless day he had experience. Following their agreement to marry despite the consequences, Asha left his quarters to return to her own room before the rest of the world began to awaken. At the first sign of sun up, Thorin had ventured from his room as well to seek out Lord Frilaur.

"Thorin," came a familiar voice but in an uncharacteristic tone.

Thorin turned around to see his brother Frerin walking up the hall towards him. Between the two of them Thorin was always the more serious of the two. Most of this was due to Thorin's more disciplined upbringing. While he was the heir, he was held to a higher standard than his younger brother. This resulted in Frerin being the more carefree of the Durin siblings as he was the middle child as well as the second son. So when his tone was rough and his face adopted the stern expression that was more often found on their fathers face, Thorin knew that something was going on. If it had been any other time, Thorin would be concerned. But given his haste in agenda, Thorin did not consider that what is brother had to say would be more important.

"Ah, Frerin," Thorin greeted.

"I need to speak with you," he said in a tone that was more of a demand than a request.

Thorin shook his head. "I am sorry but I am a hurry. Maybe later," he brushed off casually before turning to continue on his way.

"Why? So you can find the Brimir Princess"

Thorin froze in his step then pivoted to face his brother.

"What did you just say?"

Frerin took several steps until he was only a few inches from his brothers.

"Like I said, we need to talk."

* * *

The door clicked shut and Thorin turned around to see his brother standing against the door with his arms folded across his chest as he glared at him. Thorin could sense the anger emanating from his brother. An emotion he had never seen his brother harbor towards him.

"Do you want to tell me what in Mahal's name is going on?"

"What do you mean?" Thorin prodded innocently.

Thorin knew it would be pointless to play ignorant but he needed to know just how much Frerin knew.

"You know exactly what I am talking about," Frerin snapped. "But if you are really going to be like that, then let me expound. What are you doing sneaking around with Princess Rashava?"

"How did…" Thorin began to question his brothers sources but was cut off.

"I saw the two of you last night in the forest!" Frerin blurted loudly as his arms uncrossed and fell down to his sides. He took several steps closer and when he spoke again, his voice was hushed. "Thorin, she is an engaged woman. What were you thinking?"

Thorin knew it looked bad. But his brother was missing the whole story. "It's her Frerin. The woman I met last year. It is her."

"It has to stop!" Frerin hissed. "If her family were to find out…"

"I can't just let her go!" Thorin defended.

"She's a Brimir!" Frerin shouted with his arm raised and pointing at the door. He then pointed to Thorin. This time speaking in a deep low tone. "You're a Durin. It's not right."

Silence enveloped the room as they each looked at eachother. One brother's eyes filled with disgust and disappointment while the other held hurt and pain. Thorin knew his brother was raised the same way when it came to the Brimir's. But Thorin had always thought his brother viewed the feud with the same eyes as he did.

He knew his brother disliked Ivor and had his opinions about a few others but he always thought the hate was stemmed from personal encounters. Not just the fact that they were Brimir's. But it turned out he was wrong about his brother. His brother was just like the rest of them.

With these thoughts Thorin's eyes hardened as he looked at his brother.

"Get out," Thorin snarled.

Frerin's eyes softened as a look of hurt flashed across his face. He had never seen his brother look at him with such anger.

"Thorin," he tried to reason. "I am just trying to protect you. You have to see that this will only end in heartbreak. She is betrothed to another man, she is a Brimir, she is the heir to Dhom." A long pause filled the air before Frerin finally finished with his last thought. "It can never be. Please, just promise me that you will end this."

Thorin stared at his brother, his face impossible to read.

"I am sorry," Thorin said stiffly. "But I can't do that."

Before Frerin could beg his brother anymore, Thorin had brushed past him towards the door.

Frerin heard the handle being wrenched open then his body flinched as he heard the door slam shut. He let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. He had to do something. He had to protect his brother. It was nothing against the girl. From what he knew she was kind and level headed. If she were anyone else he would not be against it. He would even encourage his brother. But his brother did not see the thin ice he was treading on and when he fell through, it would not just be him drowning. It would be so many others that would suffer from such a scandal. Another sigh escaped his lips. If his brother could not see reason then maybe perhaps the girl would.

* * *

Asha entered her room quietly just as the sun light began shedding its rays through the windows of her room. She tiptoed across the cold stone and slid the covers down from her bed. Without even trying to take off her clothes she began to crawl into bed but was stopped when a voice startled her.

"You're late," came Mirrea's stern voice.

Asha paused in her actions and looked in the direction of where her voice had come. Mirrea stood with her hands on her hips and looking at Asha with a disgruntled grimace.

Asha gave her a sheepish smile.

"Sorry," she said guiltily.

Mirrea crossed her arms and let out a humph.

"You should be," she said as she wagged a finger at her and crossed the room to where a large wardrobe leaned against the wall. "And don't even think about crawling any further into that bed. The sun is up which means you should be up as well. Your family will be expecting you for breakfast in a half hour."

Asha let out a groan.

"Don't give me that. I covered for you absence all last night when Ivor came by just after you left and I had to explain that you were already in bed when it was only half past eight," Mirrea explained. "I am not explaining to your family that you are still in bed past dawn after nearly eleven hours of sleep already."

Asha leaned forward and fell onto the bed and closed her eyes, hoping to fall asleep before Mirrea could stop her. But a hard smack on her bottom had her lurching up again.

"Don't even think about it," Mirrea snapped as she threw a dress onto the bed and moved back to pull out a pair of shoes.

Asha groaned again.

"Can't you just tell them I am sick?" She asked as she began to unlace the strings on her dress.

As Asha fumbled to loosen the knot behind her, Mirrea came back and turned her to face the window as she pushed her hands to the side and began took over the task of unlacing the strings to her dress.

"No", she replied curtly.

Asha let her shoulders sag in disappointment even though she already knew Mirrea would not let up. She tried to be angry but could not find it within herself. Mirrea had already done so much for her by covering her absences when she snuck out. She was the only confidant she had.

Suddenly the reality of what had happened between her and Thorin struck her and she immediately turned around. Mirrea let out a protest as her task was left half done but Asha ignored it. She placed her hands on the maids shoulders and looked into her eyes as excitement filled her.

"Mirrea! I cannot believe I forgot! I have the most glorious news!"

* * *

As Asha finished, her bright eyes and wide smile quickly diminished when she did not see the same happiness or excitement reflected in the older woman's face that she had just shared the happy news with. Instead she saw nothing but pity and if she were not mistaken, disappointment. A gap of silence filled the air as they sat on the edge of the bed facing each other.

"Are you not happy?" Asha asked in confusion.

Mirrea gave her charge a pained expression.

"It is not that I am unhappy," she said slowly. "If this had been under any other circumstances I would be ecstatic. But it's not."

"But you...you have always supported this…"

Mirrea nodded. "Yes, and perhaps that was a mistake."

"What do you mean a mistake?" Asha asked wearily.

Mirrea sighed.

"Your betrothal to Ivor has been planned for many years. When it first became apparent that your mother would not bare anymore children and your father remained without a male heir, they began to make arrangements. If you remember correctly it was then that your father began to take a keenness to Ivor."

"The hope of your parents was that you two would naturally come together. I too had that hope but it soon became apparent that it would never come to be. I could always tell you would never fall in love with him. It seemed such a heartbreaking thing for a beautiful young woman to never have such a feeling. So when you came to me after you first met Thorin I thought there would be perhaps hope. He seemed like a good man in which your father would approve. I had hope."

She looked down at her hands.

"But then you came back that second time so crushed and you told me he was a Durin. I knew then that it would never be. Your parents would never agree nor accept such a union."

"But if we elope they will have no choice," argued Asha.

Mirrea frowned.

"But there are risks, Asha. Your family loves you dearly but if you were to do such a thing the clan would be appalled. They may revolt against you being heir."

"I have already considered that. Both Thorin and I are willing to risk it," Asha quickly supplied.

Mirrea only shook her head.

"But are you willing to give up your family? You mother? Your father?" she asked. "You would not just be giving up your throne. You would also be giving up the life you know. You would not be allowed to see them should it end in exile."

Asha took this under consideration. A deep frown fell upon her face as she thought about never seeing her family ever again. She loved her parents, she loved her home. Would it result so poorly that she would be exiled from her home, never to see it again? Mirrea's hand grabbing hers brought her attention back to the maid's face. Mirrea was looking at her with a pained expression.

"Ivor is a good man. Perhaps he is rough around the edges with others but I can tell he is sweet on you. I have watched him over the years with patience as he has tried to earn your attention," she said softly. "Would it be so bad to be married to him? Even if you never did find love with him, you could find companionship. I have seen much worse arrangements in my years serving the noble. You would be counted among the lucky ones."

Mirrea watched as Asha looked down at her lap. Her hair fell forward creating a curtain the block her face from view. A warm salty tear splattered across her hand which still held her charges own and her heart went out to the broken girl. She slowly stood and helped the younger girl into the bed and tucked her quietly in bed. As Asha lay on her side, Mirrea pet her hair as she listened to the choked sobs of the quivering girl.

"I will tell your family you are not feeling well," she said softly as she stood to leave the girl alone to wallow in her heartache.

Just as Mirrea was about leave she cast one last glance to the crying girl. She felt her old a weary heart be filled with pain. She hated such woe to befall such a young and innocent girl. She had been in servitude to the girl since she first placed into the nursery not long after her birth. She wanted her to be happy. She let out a sigh as she turned around to leave. While she walked the halls to where her King and Queen where to have their breakfast she made a solemn vow to herself. Whatever Asha's decision, she would support and follow. She would bear the girls hardships whether it be separation from her true love, or separation for her family.


	6. Never a Story of More Woe

"You know neither of our families will be happy with you when they find out, right?" Thorin asked.

Lord Frilaur nodded his salt and peppered head.

"Aye, don't you fret laddie. I have been dealing with both the Durin's and the Brimir's for quite some time. I can handle them." He answered. "My only concern is can you handle it? Even if your families let this happen without too much consequence, dealing with your in laws may just be harder. King Rangar is an intimidating man who loves his daughter despite what rumors say. He would not so easily give her up in replacement for a son."

Thorin let the side of his mouth cast up in a smile before he held out a hand.

"Thank you for doing this for us. Your role will not be forgotten for generations to come should this work. You will be the man who ended the silent and cold war between our two families."

Lord Frilaur took the younger mans hand and shook it.

"If it means I can have a peaceful gathering with all my dear friends then that would be all I ask for," he said humbly. "Just make sure you and your lass get here tonight at half past seven."

Thorin nodded then turned to leave for his quarters. Unbeknownst to either the Lord or the Prince their conversation had been overhead. Frerin stood in the shadows. His heart raced as panic began to flood his body.

It was worse than he thought. Thorin was really going to give up his title to the throne. Frerin gulped. As second born and second male heir, that would make him next in line after his father's reign.

It was a position Frerin never wanted, nor ever planned to take. Thorin was always the responsible one yet here he was, making the most irresponsible decision in his life. He shook his head and let out a sigh. It seemed his time was running short and he needed to take action much sooner than he thought.

With that, he knew what he needed to do. So he set out to retreat to his room where he wrote out a note with a time and point in meeting. With no signature at the bottom, he called for a servant to deliver it with the utmost secrecy. With the note sent for delivery Frerin paced back and forth in his room. There was nothing else he could do but wait for his time.

* * *

_Spoken with our mutual friend. He has agreed. If you are still in for this, meet me in the garden shrine at half past nine tonight. I will be waiting. If you do not show I will take it with a heavy heart but with understanding of your decision. I would not ask you to do such a thing unless you truly wanted or I believed it would work._

_Shadow_

Asha had read this note nearly a dozen times over in the past hour since it was delivered. Despite her doubts earlier that morning, the moment Mirrea came from the maids quarters with the note that had been passed on to her by another servant, Asha knew what she was going to do. Before she had even read the note she knew that she would meet Thorin. Because no matter the consequences, nothing could be worse than living her life separated from him.

There was a knock at the door and Asha slowly sat up from the chair she had been seated in and walked across the room. She cracked the door open and peeked out. An unfamiliar young woman stood before her. Her attire giving away her only identification as a servant. Seeing no reason to be cautious. Asha opened the door wider and gave the girl a warm smile. The girl, who had been wringing her hands in nervousness gave a quick bow before pulling a small envelope from her pocket and handed it over without a word.

"Thank you," Asha replied kindly.

The girl gave no words but gave her head a small bob before scampering off down the hall. Asha watched the girl flee in slight confusion but put it in the back of her mind as she looked down at the delivered note. It was then that she noticed the emblem that was pressed into the wax. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the imprinted insignia that held the note shut.

It was embossed with the Durin crest. While she easily corresponded with a Durin as often as she could, she had several questions as to why this note had been delivered. The first reason was that she had already received a note from Thorin. The second reason was that the insignia blatantly announced the correspondence of a Durin to a Brimir. This was something never done by Thorin nor by her. They had always kept their communications as subtle as they could. It was always given to a servant who would be instructed to pass it to Mirrea who would then deliver to one or the other. They also never embossed the sealing wax. It would always be left as nothing more than a blank blob of wax. They were always careful. So why, of all days would Thorin disregard all of their earlier precautions.

Sudden dread and fear coursed through her body of all the possibilities. But Asha quickly swallowed that dread and with shaking fingers she broke the seal and unfolded the neat creases of the parchment. Immediately alarm came back when the unfamiliar penmanship was revealed as she gazed down at a single sentence.

_Met me in the gardens at nine._

* * *

"Asha, I don't think this is a good idea," came Mirrea's infinite protest.

Regardless of her infinite amount of protests she had uttered throughout the day since being shown the second note, she still continued to help Asha dress into a simple gown. As she finished lacing the final tie into a knot, Asha turned around to face her.

"But what if it is important? What if Thorin had someone transcribe the note and the message is his?"

Mirrea pursed her lips. "I just have a bad feeling about it. I think you should wait and meet Thorin at the original time."

Asha shook her head. "No, I cannot risk it. If that second note was from Thorin and I do not show up I could lose my only chance," Asha replied stubbornly.

Mirrea still did not like it but there was nothing more she could do. She tried to make herself nod into agreeance but her neck continued to remain still. Her stomach felt sick and as she watched Asha slip out the door with a dark cloak around her shoulders, she could not help but wince at the acidic bile that had risen in her throat.

* * *

It was unnaturally cold for a summer night and Asha tightly wrapped her arms around herself to stave off the breeze that blew across her skin which responded in developing tiny goosebumps over her usually smooth arms. She quickened her strides as she neared the gardens and entered into the seclusion of the shrubbery. It was then that she realized she had absolutely no idea as to where to go from there.

The note said to meet her in the gardens but it did not specify as to where in the gardens they were to meet. Her hazel eyes swept across the darkened greenery in search of another person but was greeted with nothing but silent bushes and stilled flowers. She caught sight of the domed top of the shrine located just outside the garden perimeter and debated if perhaps this was a mistake. Perhaps it would be best if she just went straight there. She moved her foot forward in the direction of the shrine but was stopped at the sound of her name being spoken by a familiar yet different voice.

"Princess Rashava?"

She turned around just in time to see a man step out of the shadows and into the moonlight. At first confusion played on her face as she initially thought the man to be Thorin, but everything was wrong. He was smaller, his hair lighter, and his nose rounder. There was also the fact that the voice saying her given name did not match the one of her love.

"Thank you for meeting me tonight," the man said with a small stiff bow. "I know we have never been properly introduced but my name if Frerin. Thorin is my brother."

Clarity followed quickly by alarm and fear manifested across Asha's face and she took a timid step back. Seeing her fright, Frerin quickly raised his hands, palms open as a gesture of no ill intent.

"Do not worry," he said cautiously. "I did ask you here to hurt you but only make a request."

Asha looked at him with a wary expression as she angled her head towards the shrine and looked at him with the corner of her eye.

"What kind of request?"

"I ask that you do not meet with my brother tonight," he said diplomatically. Asha's head snapped to face him full on as the surprise showed in her face. Frerin nodded. "I know of your relationship. And I am telling you now, nothing good will come of it."

"You cannot know that for certain," she replied.

"Perhaps you are correct," Frerin conceded before countering, "But perhaps not. Neither of us knows for sure. However, I do know that the risk is far too great. This could end in a war between our kingdoms."

"But it could also end in a final resolution to this deity forsaken feud that no one even knows when or how it began," she countered. "Does your prejudice really run so deeply that you would ask me to break your own brothers heart?"

She looked at him with an expression of disappointment.

"Thorin has told me about you. He would do anything for you. He loves you with such a deep bond that he would give up his life for you," she informed. "How can you be so discriminating that you would let such a trivial feud come between such a brotherly bond?"

Frerin frowned at her words. "I hold nothing against you because you are a Brimir," he snapped, perhaps a bit harshly. She took a step back in alarm to his tone and he softened his next words. "Look, your a nice girl and under any other circumstances I would be in support. I too am tired of this feud but it is inevitable. There is no changing our ways."

Asha raised an eyebrow. If what he was saying was his true feelings, he too felt the same way as she and Thorin did. He disliked the feud more than the people he was told to hate.

"But is that not proof that this could work? You, me, Thorin, we all hate this feud. If we, direct heirs of Brimir and Durin feel this way, is it not proof that it can work? Surely we are not the only ones who feel this way!"

Silence fell between him as she finished speaking. Each of them only stared at each other for a long moment. Asha breathing rapidly as she awaited Frerin's reply while Frerin continued to look at her with an expression that gave no insight of his thoughts. Finally, after a long pause with nothing but crickets and the occasional wind as the only source of sound, Frerin's face broke into a wide grin followed by a bellowing laughter. The sudden gleeful bark caused Asha to jump before she stared at the man before her with a dumbfounded expression.

Frerin's boisterous laugh continued until a small tear formed at the corner of his eye and he wiped it away. His humor died down and he looked at her with a new expression. One would give to a child that they were fond of. His lips split into a grin as his eyes twinkled with mischief. It was such an odd and disturbing sight for Asha. He looked so much like Thorin but Frerin's expression where not anything she had ever seen adorned on his brothers face.

"I like you," he finally stated, making Asha even more thoroughly confused.

She continued to look at him as if he were mad. "Uh, thank you?" she said in confusion.

Frerin smiled again. "You know, perhaps you are right, maybe this could work."

She looked at him in confusion again. "But I thought..."

"I know," he said cutting her off. "But from what I have just seen you are just as stubborn as he is and that is a fact that changes everything. Perhaps your union may change the future of our lineages."

He brought a hand up to his face and tapped his lips with a fingers as he scrutinized her with a renewed motive. Asha squirmed under his examining eyes and began to feel nervous again. This man was definitely not like Thorin. Asha could already tell he was a lot more energetic and carefree, despite his earlier manors. It seemed that his true self had come out to replace what she could only assume was his serious facade. Suddenly he removed his hand from his face and shot it out towards her. She flinched at first then realized he was merely offering it to her. A wide smile on his face.

"Perhaps we should start over," he said kindly. "Frerin, second son of Thrain, and your future brother-in law."

Asha stared at him for one long minute before she finally recovered from her startelement and extended her own hand to grasp his. She gave him a faint smile.

"Princess Rashava, daughter of King Rangar, but to my friends and family, I am only known as Asha," she said in turn.

Frerin smirked and Asha could not help but be reminded of Thorin's smirk. Then the realization hit her. She was about to be married...to Thorin. As if the same thoughts were running through the other person's mind, Frerin opened his mouth to speak but when a third voice sounded instead of his. They each jumped and turned to face the newcomer.

"ASHA! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

To her horror Ivor was stomping heavily towards them, and while his words were directed to her, his attention was focused solely on Frerin. His dark brows were angled in an angry glare as his usually brown eyes looked more black as his malice darkened their hue.

Asha was just about to step forward and intercept Ivor before he reached them both. But before she could take a step forward she felt her body being pushed backwards until she was forced to retreat rather than advance. She soon found herself gently nudged slightly behind Frerin's left shoulder as he took on a protective stature between her and Ivor. With the small amount their bodies were staggered, she was able to catch the spark of fury that made Ivor's already fuming state advance into a deeper rage. But despite his foul mood, he stopped a few paces short of reaching them entirely.

"We were merely exchanging pleasantries of new acquaintances," Frerin replied calmly.

Ivor's eye twitched as the muscles in his jaw flexed in annoyance. Without a reply to Frerin, he directed his attention to Asha who was slightly obstructed from his vision as she stood behind Frerin and peeked behind his shoulder.

"Asha," he said sternly. "Come here."

Obediently she moved to walk towards him but was stopped when Frerin thrust out an arm and barred her way.

"You have no authority over her," Frerin defended. "She is a pure blood royal. At best you are a half breed between a Lord and a silversmith. She has no reason to follow your command nor will she ever."

Asha's eyes widened at Frerin's words. Surely he had a death wish, because Ivor was not one to have a mild temper. And by the look she was currently seeing on Ivor's face, he was living up to the expectation. But it seemed that Frerin was not finished as he made not hesitation to continue.

"Asha has an engagement that requires her attendance. So I suggest you leave before I am forced to make you leave."

The sound ringing of metal against metal reverberated through the air as Ivor drew his sword and pointed it at Frerin.

"Is that a threat...Durin?" he seethed between his clenched teeth. "I may not have the purest of blood, yet I find it ironic that no matter how pure your blood is, it is I, not you, that will end up on a throne."

Frerin let out a bark of laughter. "I have no desire to sit on a hard stone seat with a heavy crown weighing down on my head. And the way I am seeing it, you will never be a King either."

Asha let out a gasp. "Frerin don't," she warned quietly.

But it was too late, Ivor was already pushed to his limits of patience and he was advancing towards them. Frerin pushed Asha away with a force none too roughly that she ended up on the ground as he withdrew his own sword and the loud clash of blades sounded through the air.

"STOP IT!"

Asha's scream fell on deaf ears as the two dueling dwarves pushed against their opponent's blade and growled at each other. Ivor being the stronger of the two gave a mighty shove that forced them apart, Frerin staggered for a few steps but regained his balance. Their moment of separation was just that. It was only a moment that passed before each of them charged at eachother again.

Asha watched in horror as the two fought. She felt utterly helpless. Jumping between them could only result in injury or death of herself or one of the others. She tried yelling again but like before, her desperate voice did no good in ceasing the fight. She could only watch as her body remained sprawled across the ground. She could feel small abrasions stinging along her arms from when Frerin pushed her away from danger.

She was not an expert fighter by a soldiers standards. But she was knowledgeable enough in the art of fighting as all residents of Dhom where, that she could tell their blows and strikes were not ones meant to harm but merely disarm.

It was the only relief she could grasp from the entire situation that was playing out before her. Frerin was putting up a good defense but despite his skill, Asha already knew who would come out as victor. It would only be a matter of time before Ivor would rip Frerin's sword from his grasp. It was a result she needed no clairvoyance to know. Ivor had never lost nor would he start losing.

As she came to this conclusion, her premonition began to play out. Frerin began struggling to move his arms fast enough. Each time he managed to block, the next would be slower until he was just barely getting his sword into position. Finally the final blow came but unlike Ivor's intention to knock his opponent's sword free from his grip, his own sword slide down the blade of Frerin's as he mustered a small enough amount of strength to hold onto his hilt. However, all strength went into keeping his sword in his hands and he failed to keep his blade at the correct angle.

It all happened so quickly but Asha would always remember it vividly.

As Frerin's sword turned to the side, Ivor lost his firm stance and fell forward. His blade made a hum of metal as it slid against Frerin's blade until the point plunged deeply into his abdomen.

"NO!" Asha's ragged scream echoed loudly across the garden premise and faded away as all three of those present stared at the ever growing wetness that spread across Frerin's forest green tunic.

Finally Asha felt her body move and she crawled quickly to Frerin just as he fell to his knees. He fell into her arms before his dead weight became overwhelming and she lowered him to the ground.

Asha frantically pressed her hands against the wound as instinct drove her to take action. A sickening guttural sound came from Frerin's throat as he coughed and blood splattered into the air and spotted his face.

Asha looked up to Ivor who stood in shock with his sword held limply in his hand as the bloody tip of his blade dug into the blades of grass and stained them red. He seemed to only be capable to uselessly stand and stare. A thick wall of tears caused her vision to blur as she tried to blink frantically in an attempt to clear her eyesight.

A pair of heavy footsteps sounded behind her and she quickly turned around to see Thorin making his way towards them.

"Asha!" he said in alarm as he took in the sight of her crouched on the ground covered in blood.

Asha watched as his eyes wandered past her to where Frerin was lying on the ground and he paled. He was moving in an instant again and Asha just barely managed to move herself enough to keep from being plowed over as he fell to the ground at his brother's side.

At his brother's arrival, Frerin looked to his brother and his hand raised to grab his brothers. Thorin grasped the offered hand as his eyes frantically roved across his brothers bloody torso and then back to his pain cringed face.

"Frerin..." Thorin's voice broke off as an unexpected sob rose in his throat.

"Thorin," Frerin said weekly.

"Hold on," Thorin said desperately. "I am going to get help."

Thorin looked away from his brothers face as his eyes frantically searched for some source of aid. His eyes fell upon Asha and he looked at her desperately.

"Go get aid, go find…"

"Thorin," Frerin's voice cut his brother off and Thorin looked back down to his brother. "There...there's no point."

Thorin shook his head back and forth frantically. "NO!" he said firmly. "We just need to get you to the infirmary."

Frerin weakly shook his head. "No Thorin, it is too late," he said looking at his brother sadly. His eyes trailed down to were Asha was sitting with her hands still pressed on his abdomen. "I like this one." He looked back to Thorin. "It will work. I look forward to seeing your reign together from Mahal's grand hall."

"Frerin," Thorin said desperately. "Don't...don't speak you will only waste your energy."

Frerin gave him a weak smile and tried to speak again but a ragged wet cough came from his throat. Suddenly his body began to convulse and then before Thorin could do anything, his body went limp and his blue eyes that once held shimmering life, faded and dulled to a ashened grey. Frerin, second son of Thrór, and brother to Thorin, was dead.

Thorin stared down at his brother's lifeless body but his eyes saw nothing but blurriness as his ears rang with a high pitched noise. He was deafened to Asha's timid voice that called out to him. It was not until he felt a slightly shaking hand on his arm that he seemed to come to sense. He head snapped to the side as his red rimmed eyes looked at her. She startled at his sudden movement but seemed to slowly recover as she reached out to put her hand back on his arm.

"Thor一," she tried to begin but was cut off.

"What happened," he said blankly.

Asha stared at him as she searched for how to begin. His face was stoney and grim. She was at a loss for words for an explanation on how his brother came to his demise. She opened her mouth but a shuffling of feet sounded and Thorin's attention was taken from her and moved to the source of noise.

First confusion was displayed on his face as he took the other male in, but then his eyes ran down to the bloody sword held limply in his hand and everything changed. His eyes darkened when his brows narrowed and cast a shadow over his usually bright blue orbs. They now held a darker toned blue and possessed a heated glare that could melt even the most solid of metals. His face contorted into a feral snarl and his entire body shook with raged tremors.

"YOU!" he seethed with pure unadulterated hatred. "MURDERER."

Thorin's mind was so lost with a lust for vengeance that he could not even form a full sentence. He was not even aware of his own body's actions as his arm reached out to grasp Frerin's fallen sword as he stood tall. His vision was outlined with red rage as everything in his sight took on a scarlet tinge. He was stock still one moment then with a blur he was moving towards the focus of his attention.

"Thorin NO!"

Her voice was the first to register in his mind then the image of her appeared in his path to his victim. Her eyes were wide on her tear and blood streaked face. Her delicate arms stretched out as far as possible to block as much space as she could. The creme dress she wore was dirty and ripped and all down her front, large streaks of smeared red ruined its once pure image. His eyes narrowed at the sight of her standing protectively in front of his brother's killer. This sight seemed to only fuel his earlier goal and he looked past her shoulder to Ivor who took a hesitant step back. His lip curled and he stomped a few more steps but was stopped as a small pressure pressed against his chest. He looked down to see Asha looking up at him with fearful eyes as her hands, gloved in his brothers blood, were placed on the front of his tunic.

"Asha," Thorin said coldly. "Move."

She flinched at the harsh tone of his voice but her body remained unmoved. She shook her head.

"Thorin," she said in a pleading tone. "It was an accident. He didn't mea一"

"You're defending him!" He shouted pointing an accusing finger at a still silent Ivor. "He MURDERED my brother."

Asha shook her head frantically as a fresh batch of tears began to brew in her eyes. "No. It was...it was an accident." She stuttered. "He did not mean to."

Thorin grabbed her shoulders and shook her slightly as a manic expression came to his face. "What are you talking about! HE does NOT make mistakes when it comes to swordsmanship."

"Thorin let her go."

At Ivor's demand Thorin looked up just in time to see Ivor move forward and wrap a firm hand around Asha's shoulder. He gave her a firm yank and pulled her firmly to his side. His grip on Frerin's sword tightened and he pointed it at him.

"Stop hiding behind women and draw your sword," Thorin hissed.

"Thorin don't do this!" Asha pleaded.

His eyes fell to her at her words. She could see the hurt and sorrow as she gazed into the windows of his soul. He was hurting and she felt herself hurting. It was not one of sympathy but of empathy as she felt the pain. She was feeling her own sorrow for what had just occurred. Silence fell between them as they gazed between each other. Ivor remained still and silent as well. An action to which Asha was grateful as she worried about what would happen should Thorin be reminded of his presence.

She could see his breathing becoming less ragged with rage as it slowed down to a slow pace. With tentative steps she moved forward and slowly wrapped her arms around his sides and embraced him. For a moment he stood stiffly in her arms until she heard the dull thud a sword falling to the ground into the grass. Then his arms finally moved themselves to wrap her tightly as he bowed his head and wept into her hair leaving it salty and damp.

Their moment of remorse was just that. A moment. For their earlier shouts and the earlier scuffle had brought alarm to those nearby and the stronghold had been alerted.

Not long after Thorin let his rage go, several people came into the section of the garden. The first group consisting of King Rangar, the second consisting of Prince Thráin.

At first there was complete bewilderment and confusion upon the faces of all new arrivals as they looked upon the strange sight. A Durin holding tightly to a Brimir, while another Bimir watched the two with a lowered sword in his hand. But then the arrival of Princess Nis came. Wife to Thráin and mother of Thorin. Her eyes fell on the three like everyone else but then they fell lower to the ground and took in the sight of the bloody and still body of her fallen youngest son.

An anguished cry broke everyone free from their confused gazes as she dashed forward and fell to the ground to cradle her sons limp head. Thorin abruptly released his hold on Asha and took a step back from her when he realized the presence of his family. Thráin drew towards his wife and fell to his knees as an anguished cry fell from his lips as well.

The cries turned to sobs then evolved into guttural curses as Thráin stood up and stalked towards the members of the Brimir family.

"Rangar!" he growled. "You and your family will pay for this!"

Rangar strode forward, each step taken with the promise of death of any who may cause him a divergence in his path. "No," he said lowly. "It will be yours that will be cut down for the dishonor and tarnishing your son has done to my daughter."

Asha's eyes widened as horror filled her bones at the thought of her father knowing what she had done. Thráin seemed to be ignorant but he easily reached the conclusion and looked towards her with disgust on his face. He then looked back to Rangar.

"Your whore of a daughter was tarnished the moment she fell from her mother's womb with the blood of Brimir pumping through her veins," Thráin retorted.

Fire blazed in Rangar's eyes and he withdrew his sword. Panic coursed through Asha's body. While she had no doubt the Durin's present would be skilled fighters and would hold their own, she knew exactly how this would end. Her father would defeat them all in any spare, but tonight, tonight he would slaughter them all.

"**THAT IS ENOUGH!**" bellowed a voice in deep Khuzdul.

All feuding members turned to see Lord Frilaur approaching from the direction of the garden shrine. His sharp grey eyes moved back and forth from Durin to Brimir as his mouth grimaced at each one of them. Then upon seeing Frerin's body lying on the ground his face softened into sorrow. While he may not be a man of power, he was one of influence. At the moment, he was influencing every member to separate from each other as they parted and divided into two groups. On his left stood the Brimir's and on his right gathered the Durin's. The only two intermingled where Asha and Thorin where they stood apart between the two families.

"For nearly one hundred and eighty years I have watched your families belittle and slander the other. And what has it all been over?"

He looked around at the small gathering of dwarves as if expecting someone to procure an answer. However all remained silent and he walked a few more steps to stand in the middle of the small courtyard.

"I have advised you time and time again that you should put this ridiculous feud behind yourselves and let whatever caused such a thing to remain in the past. But you Durin's are too stubborn in your ways and you Brimir's are too prideful."

He pointed to Frerin's body where his mother was still silently weeping.

"Look at what your stubborn pride has gotten you! And we should be grateful that this is the only loss of innocent blood we have witnessed on this night. A plague on both your houses. I curse you all and withdraw my welcome of you into my home until you can put aside this feud. I give no farewell but only a warning. Your kingdoms will suffer if you do not come together."

With that said, he turned around and stormed off in a flurry of cloak and raised hands. The two houses left behind silently gazed at the spot where he disappeared then looked at eachother. Despite the warning of bad omen, their eyes were still heated with rage and contempt. It was Ragnar who was the first to move and break the silence. He walked up to his daughter and encased her arm with his hand.

"Come Rashava," he said without taking his watchful eyes from Thorin standing near her.

Asha looked up to Thorin for some kind of answer as to what to do. But he only looked at her with vacant eyes.

A tug on her arm as her father began to walk away caused her feet to move but her eyes remained set on him. She wanted to wrench herself free, she wanted to run to him, comfort him. But something within his blank stare told her it would be unwise. Something was different and she could not predict the thoughts that ran through his mind, nor the reaction he would have. So she let herself be taken away and with each heavy step, it felt like the procession to the hangman's noose. The farther away from him, the more she felt like she was walking towards death itself.


	7. A Plague On Both Your Houses

As Thorin stared down at the lifeless and still body of his brother, he struggled to hold on to the reality that he was gone. If it were not for the bloody images of his brother struggling for breath as he choked on his own blood that appeared every time his eyes blinked, he would think the prone body lying on the cold alter was just sleeping. However, the memories that plagued his mind reminded him of the cold hard truth. Frerin was dead. His brother was dead.

His feet and shoulders ached from standing still for so long but neither hurt as much as the pumping organ in his chest. His heart felt as if a heated sharp knife had punctured it.

An arrangement of dying candles flickered around his body as lavender and sage wafted through the air and cleansed it from the scent of death. The sound of boiling wax filled the air as a particularly low burning candle reached the end of its wick and sputtered out. The faint light within the room grew dimmer and the pungent scent of smoke overpowered the herbal scents when the flame died.

Light footsteps sounded. From the corner of his eye, Thorin saw the movement of a hesitant body approach him from the eastern entrance of the shrine. A small breeze coming from the open way carried her scent to him and Thorin knew it was Asha before she even stepped into the glowing fire light of the candles.

It was not right. Everything about her presence was wrong, everything about this moment was wrong. It was nearing midnight.

They were supposed to have met each other in this same place only a few hours ago. They were supposed to have been wedded by now. They were supposed to be in bed, enjoying the others company in the bliss of their wedding night.

But circumstances had changed. So instead of being together before an altar to be married, they were at the altar for a death. It was all so wrong.

"You should not be here," he said in a quietly, his tone empty of feeling.

Ignoring his words Asha closed in the remainder of the distance between them. Cautiously, as if approaching a skittish animal, Asha reached out to lay a hand on his forearm. It was limply hanging at his side but the moment her fingertips brushed the surface of his skin he stiffened and recoiled from her touch. A look of hurt flashed across her face as she looked at him questioningly.

"If other Durin's were to see you here there is no guarantee they would let you walk away so freely like your kinsman..." he paused for a moment before correcting himself, "...your fiancée."

Asha frowned at his words.

"I was led to believe it is you who holds that title?" she said quietly, doing her best to keep the quiver in her voice from manifesting too strongly. "Do you no longer wish for it?

She waited for his answer but nothing came from his pursed lips. He looked deeply into her eyes for as long as he could stand watching the brimming hurt that was to come from an answer that she did not want to hear. His eyes roved sadly across his brothers still body. All evidence of any spilt blood washed away from his hair and skin. But his face was too pale, no longer flushed with his youthful glow that Thorin always awed over such a cheerful complexion.

"I believe the events of tonight were an omen of what that title will bring upon us," Thorin said monotonously as he continued to stare down at his brother. "A curse that will bring nothing but death to those around us...it would be for the best."

Asha dug her nails into the palm of her hands as she focused on the sharp pain instead of the heat that burned her eyes. Gulping down the sob that was building in her throat, Asha took a step forward and again reached out for his arm. This time she was relieved when he did not remove himself from her touch.

"Thorin," she said meekly. "Please...please...don't do this."

She felt his arm stiffen beneath her grasp as he turned his head slowly to look at her. His blue eyes that always reminded her of the summer sky no longer held their warm gaze. They were hard and cold, like the frozen winters of the north, his icy stare forced her to take a step back.

"Don't do what?" he asked harshly.

"Don't give up," she said softly. "We can still be together."

"My brother is dead!" Their conversation having never risen above a soft tone until now made his shout sound like the roar of a lion as it erupted from his mouth. The window pains rattled within their frames as his words bounced and echoed around the small shrine. "It is easy for you to easily push it aside because what does it matter to you. You did not know him. He meant nothing to you. Just one less Durin in the world, one less enemy for your family…"

A resounding slap echoed around the room cutting Thorin's accusing words to be cut short. Asha's strike had been powerful and forced Thorin's head to the side. His cheek stung but he ignored it as he turned his head back to look at her. Her chest heaved as she breathed heavily, her hands clenched tightly at her sides as she glared up at him.

"Don't you dare say that I do not care about Frerin's death," she growled between her clenched teeth as hurtful tears built up in her eyes. "I would never wish for anyone to lose their life, Durin or otherwise."

I voice was firm and reprimanding and she was not finished.

"We have both been brought up with the offerings of poison. A poison of falsehood about each others family. It is a poison that has run through the veins of both our families for generations and tonight that poison took its first victim. I may not have known your brother, but I know he did not deserve such a fate. His death can be the first and the last if we bring our families together!"

"Don't drink that poison," she urged. "Not now. This is no longer just about us, it's for our families as well. If we let this feud continue to go on it may very well lead to war and then what? Who will be next? Your cousin, my mother, your sister?"

His eyes flashed with warning but she ignored it. Her balled fist relaxed as her hand moved to grab his and slowly she raised it to her chest to let his palm lay flat against her heart. She let him feel her heartbeat twice before continuing.

"As long as this is beating, I will always fight for us, for a chance to live a life with the one I love. I love you Thorin, I always will. I will never give in to the hatred..." her tears were now dripping from her lashes in large droplets. Like spring rain falling from fresh tree leaves, they fell from her long lashes in perfect spheres each time she blinked. Some landed on the floor while others brushed her cheeks. "Please...don't let the poison end us. Don't let this be the end."

For a moment it was silent as Asha gazed up at him. Her previous anger had washed away when the first tear had fallen. All that was left was a pleading desperation as her hazel eyes watched his features closely. For what seemed like an eternity for her, he only stared blankly back at her as she waited for some sort of sign that he was going to concede to her plea.

But then he pulled his hand away and stepped back. As his boot let out a dull thud with his step, she felt a hard pressure in her chest. Her head began to move back and forth in slow motions before his words even formed on his lips.

"You are young and naive to think things will ever work out," he said in a strained tone to keep any emotion from his voice.

"Thorin...please...I need to tell…"

"There is nothing else that you could ever say that would change my mind." he said darkly.

"But..."

"LEAVE!" he shouted while pointing a finger to the door from whence she came. "Go. Go back to your family, go back to your fiancée. I want nothing more to do with you. You were correct about poison but you were wrong about what was the poison. The poison was you Rashava. You poisoned by mind, blinded me with fantasies, and seduced me into the silly ideals of love. My family was right all along. You Brimir's are nothing but a bunch of conniving illusionists and I will never let a drop of my blood be mixed with someone of the likes of you."

Her body flinched before going rigid as she stared at him in horror. Only a single, solitary tear now traced her cheek and chin as she stared at him. Finally, her head began to move. First to the left, then to the right as she slowly shook it in disbelief.

"You don't mean that," she said in a choked whisper. Her words barely audible by the lack of breath she could muster from her lungs. "You don't mean that," she repeated as her hands clenched at her stomach.

Thorin took one heavy footed step forward. His body turned toward her in a preparatory stance that one would take before striking out an attack.

"Every damn word," he said darkly.

His words sent her fleeing. Like a dove startled by a sound. The rustle of her dress, the scrapping of her shoes as she stuttered a few steps back before finally turning her back to him and running away. The faint sound of her steps becoming more muffled with distance until even the sound was no longer there as her light steps hit the grass outside the shrine.

He watched her from the small space the ajar door allowed him to see until she was no longer within sight. It was only then that he felt the plunging pain within his chest. For a moment he thought he had been stabbed through the chest despite the fact that not a soul was in sight. Even with this logic, he was forced to look down at the hand that had instinctively grasped at the pain to find nothing but blood free skin and a hole free shirt.

It was then that he realized the pain he was feeling was nothing else than heartache. Stronger than anything he had ever felt before. Stronger than he felt those months searching for her, stronger than when he found out she was betrothed, stronger than when he realized she was a Brimir, and even more painful than when he watched the life seep from his own brother.

* * *

Thorin leaned against a small balcony that overlooked the black lake that pooled at the bottom of the mountain and reflected the starry night above. He watched the small lights of the city of Dale slowly extinguish as the hour grew later. Despite the slumbering city far below Erebor. The mountain itself was just beginning to reach its apex of life for the night.

Durin's day was upon them and parades of guests willing to travel so late in the season, had been arriving from all corners of the dwarf lands. All clans and all families with some relation to Durin had made a pilgrimage from their respective kingdoms, villages, and strongholds to celebrate as a whole.

Durin's day was a sacred holiday to his family. It was the reason why so many descendants of Durin flocked together in a mass migration to the Lonely Mountain.

It was a day to celebrate the coming of new beginnings and letting go of past mistakes and hardships. It was a day that was hallowed and praised.

But while laughter, music, and other ambiances of celebration rose up to sound in Thorin's muffled ears, Thorin felt none of the usual excitement that he would on such a day. At the moment he only wanted to sulk in glumness. His brother had been buried weeks ago and while he had just begun to finally feel human again, the celebration was too much.

He had tried at first.

Shared a drink with his cousin Dáin, sampled some pies with Víli, he had even danced with his sister. But then he had overheard a dwarrowdam gossiping with several other women, only a few feet away and after hearing the contents of her gossip, he could no longer bring himself to try. It was the reason why he had come up here to seek out solitude, as he was not wanting to burden or dampen his sullen state onto the joys of such a day.

Asha was to be married. That fact he already knew. He had set it in stone when he sent her away that dreadful night. He had been stupid, grief stricken, and spoke untruths.

Not long after he had realized what he had truly done and the next morning had set out to take it all back. But her family had already left. Departed in the dead of night to retreat to their home in the north.

Since then he had crafted many a letter to express his self aborance and regret. But he could never find the right words.

So many times he wondered if there were any right words that could ever right his wrong. He thought he had time. But according to the gossiping women, the wedding would no longer take place in the spring.

Three weeks. Less than a month. He looked up to the sky where the full moon shone down like a beacon. Not even enough time for the moon to wane and wax again before she would be married.

Married his brother's murderer.

At that thought, Thorin's gaze fell from the sky as anger built into his chest. He spat out into the air as a gutteral curse flew from his lips. His fingernails dug into the carved stone he was leaning on and he only loosened his grasp when the slickness of his own blood made his grip slip.

A reflected brightness caught his eye. Tracking its source, he found himself staring down at the Long Lake that stretched southward.

On the western side a white orb was displayed on its smooth surface. The moon. Reflected perfectly in the abnormally stillness of the water's mirrored surface.

His eyes traced its circled edge until they drifted away to the shore line the reflection was located near. It was then that his thoughts turned to the face that he had forbidden from his mind.

As the image of Asha wandering along a similar shoreline was painted across his thoughts, Thorin immediately began to muster the feelings of hatred and loathing he had felt that day only three weeks ago. But the image of her was so pure and innocent that he faltered. Then with a heavy sigh, he gave up.

It usually worked. It would have worked under any other circumstances. But the news of her wedding was too fresh, too sudden. The wedding in which she would be married to Ivor, not him.

She more than likely despised him.

It was no wonder that the wedding was moved up. Why wait to move on from a man who did not want her? Although it surprised him that Ivor was even still willing to marry her after having been touched by a Durin. Perhaps Ivor truly was the better man.

On a day that was meant to let go of regret and loss, Thorin found himself bathing in desire and need to go back and fix everything. His mind told him to move on, to which he desperately wished for. But his stubborn heart that pumped his even more stubborn Durin blood, pleaded for him to hang on.

* * *

Thorin stood in the shadows of the entrance into the throne room as he watched his grandfather Thrór pace back and forth as the handful of councillors, including his father Thráin, watched their king with unease. While they had done well to hide his sanity's demise in the past year from outsiders, this small group was acutely aware of the once mighty and analytical man that was now decaying into weakend paranoid hermit. They had done well to hide it thus far but they still worried when the rumors would begin.

He had been absent from all celebrations and gatherings over the warmer season in the past year. It was a decision made by the council as they feared one of the other kingdoms would notice.

But it was an unnecessary decision as Thrór refused to leave his mountain, convinced that his horde of gold would be taken in his absence. At first it was by his enemies, but now he even accused his loyal council members and his very own son just the other day.

Thorin could not remember the last time he even saw his grandfather free of the mountain walls. At the end of August Thorin had even wondered if Thrór would ever feel the sun on his skin again. But then Frerin died. And for the first time, Thrór was focused on something other than gold.

Revenge.

"We need to make our move before they can again," Thrór muttered.

"My Lord," came the voice of one of Thrór's most trusted council members. "You cannot go to war with the Brimir's. Their armies are too strong. Where we are rich in gold and precious jewels here in Erebor, they are rich in well trained soldiers and weapons in Dhom."

At the mention of gold, Thrór whirled on his feet to look at the man who had spoken.

"That's it," he said with a revelated tone. "They want the gold. They want to rob me of every single coin…"

Thorin could not find it in himself to listen any longer. He quickly turned around and walked away, his mind at a buzz with what the future would bring. What if they did go to war with the Kingdom of Dhom? All Brimir's were trained to fight from a young age not matter gender or status. Their number of population was smaller but the ratio of soldier to civilian was much greater than those of Erebor.

Just as he was nearly out of the main hall leading to the throne room. A soldier from the sentry at the front gates bumped into him. If it were not for the strikened panic in the man's face, Thorin would have reprimanded him for being so careless but upon seeing the mans wide eyes as he failed to excuse himself to continue his race towards the throne room. Alarmed and curious of the urgency in which that man emitted, Thorin quickly followed after him.

"My Lord," the guard said in a breathy voice as he gave a rushed bow and addressed the king.

"What are you here for?" Cried Thrór. "This is a private assembly."

"I am sorry my lord," the guard said as he took a step back and looked to where Thráin stood.

Thráin took a step forward and gave the guard a calming look yet still gave warning to be quick and concise.

"I apologize, but a messenger from Dhom has arrived." he said quickly. "He carries urgent news from the North and begs for an audience with the Lord of the Lonely Mountain...he is a...he is a Brimir."

All bodies within the room went still as they all looked at the King who was looking uncommonly sane. But then manic smile came to the king's face.

"Let him be brought forth," commanded the king, "...in chains."

* * *

It was a pitiful sight as the guards brought the messenger forward. He was filthy. His hair matted and oily while his skin was several shades darker because of the mud and dust caked in layers upon his skin.

His attire consisted of thin leather boots, black woven pants, a deep maroon tunic and thin overcoat that one would wear around the house or late autumn. The coat was shredded and in no terms, acceptable for traveling in the harsh weather of winter.

Perhaps in the warmer, more southern areas but they were sparse for Erebor's lands and Thorin shuddered to think how the bitter winds of the even more northern lands that belonged to the Kingdom of Dhom would feel. He looked haggard. Dark circles of exhaustion created purple shadows beneath his hazel eyes which dropped from exhaustion themselves.

The moment he was brought before the king he fell to his knees and bowed his head. A grand gesture for one who was not his King and a Durin. But when the man remained on the ground and only lifted his head, Thorin concluded that perhaps it was more out of weariness than gesture.

"Lord Thrór," the man began in a weak voice.

"King Thrór," Thrór corrected.

Thorin could see the man faintly grimace at his grandfather's haughtiness.

"King Thrór," the man corrected, his voice no longer weak but instead strained as if struggling to resist growling out the title. "My name is Ghom and I have come on behalf of the Kingdom of Dhom and bring a plea from its King himself. We understand our relations have always been...estranged. But as our closest ally...distance wise, we beg of you to give us aid. An army of goblins and the foulest of beasts that lurk beneath the earth has come to our doorstep. Dhom is under siege and our forces are dwindling. King Rangar has already been severely injured and our first line of defense has been breached. I myself just barely made it through to travel here unlike my fellow messengers that were sent out to call for aid as well." The man slowly and unsteadily stood on his feet to meet the king's eyes. "Will you return the call that my King has requested?"

As the man finished his message, silence filled the room. Thorin could see the man's chest moving quickly as he looked desperately at Thrór. Thorin noticed a pale misshapened spot near his breast pocket. It was then, as he watched the material move against his chest, that Thorin realized the color of his shirt was not maroon.

It had once been a soft creme but had been stained maroon. Dyed nearly entirely from blood.

A cold shiver ran down his spine. Dhom's first line of defense was gone. While he had never seen Dhom with his own eyes, he had heard stories, seen drawings, and heard the famed rumors that its walls were unbreachable. Apparently they were just that, rumors.

Thorin swallowed thickly. It would have been at least a three day journey if Ghom had not stopped to sleep and rest. How much more could have been lost in that amount of time? For King Rangar to call for aid, let alone from Erebor, he must be desperate. He must truly believe the Kingdom will fall.

A chilling cackle erupted from the mouth of Thrór as it filled every crevice of the room. Thorin was brought from his ponderings and moved his attention to register what was before him. Thrór had his head tilted back has he continued to laugh in amusement while the rest of the room watched him. Finally as his merriment died down, Thrór lowered his head to look at Ghom. Flecks of spittle decorated his lips as his mouth curled into a crude snear.

"My Kingdom has no alliance with yours," he said, his voice full of mockery. "I have no reason to help you. Why would I risk the lives of Erebor, to aid the spawn of Brimir?"

Ghom's eyes widened with disbelief for only a moment before they narrowed in anger. Thorin could see his hand clench in an effort to keep from shaking and when he spoke, he could hear the strain in the man's voice to keep his temper in check.

"We are also Khazad. We are one in the same. Created by Mahal, forged in the same manner. Would you truly let thousands parish because of a rivalry? Does it not bother you that those of your race would die by the scourge of the earth?"

The mention of thousands dying seemed to have little effect on Thrór as he looked at the Brimir with boredom. His eyes moved down to the armrest of his throne. A lazy finger traced a gold vein that ran through the dark marbled stone.

"It would be one less opponent for Erebor," he answered.

"We are not your enemy," Ghom said through gritted teeth.

"Yet your monarchy freely slays my grandson in cold blood," Thrór growled as crazed eyes flickered from armrest to Brimir. "That does not sound like the actions of an ally."

"Father," Thorin heard his own father's voice address Thrór.

Thrór looked at his son, his cold eyes not changing in the slightest.

"I myself have good enough reason to deny the Brimir's as it was my son, your grandson, that was murdered. I could care less if every Brimir was wiped clean of this continent," his blue eyes moved accusingly to Ghom before moving back to his father. "But to condemn the entire Kingdom? There are more than just Brimir's who call Dhom their home. Descendants from other families reside within those walls, and while I do not care for whom they choose to surround themselves with, they are still innocents, they are, as this man said, Khazad."

Thrór stayed silent as his eyes bore into his son. For a moment, Thorin thought his grandfather was considering, but then something shifted. Something within his eyes changed and turned to something else. No longer where they the Durin famed bright blue. No; they had darkened in shade and there was something sinister, something serpentine, lurking behind.

"Of course you would encourage this," he said in a scaly tone. "You want me to face an army, you want me out of this mountain."

Thorin's eyes flickered around the room and he could see the alarm in everyone's eyes. He looked to Ghom and saw him staring at Thrór in confusion as he listened to the accusations being thrown at Thráin.

"I don'tー" Thráin attempted to defend himself but his father stood as a roar rumbled from his chest like the roar of a fire drake.

"YOU WANT MY GOLD," he bellowed. "What easier way for you to seize my throne, take my crown, the arkenstone, and the precious metal within the vaults of this mountain than by having me leave my trove unguarded."

Again, silence entombed the room. Suffocating and bearing down upon all those present. All eyes were fixed on the crazed and feral face of King Thrór. No one moved, no one dared to speak. That was, until the dreaded reality was voiced by Ghom.

"You're mad," he said in a hushed whisper.

Thorin moved his attention, as did all within the room. The Brimir was stiff as his eyes were opened wide and staring at the crazed man in disbelief. As if realizing he had just spoken aloud, Ghom closed his gaping mouth and looked cautiously around the room. Suddenly aware that this was information he was not supposed to know, he took a step back.

"Take him to the dungeons," Thráin announced, his voice echoed around the room.

Ghom looked wide eyed to Thráin, then, he bolted. To the dismay of the Brimir, his escape was cut off as guards surrounded him and took hold of his arms. He let out an anguished cry as they began to drag him away.

"Please," he shrieked.

Gone was the annoyance, gone was the pride, gone was the dislike of his task to beg his rivals. All that was left in his voice was anguish and sorrow as he choked on sobs and a trail of desperate tears began to flow.

"I have to go on, I have to find aid. Please, I have to go," he begged. "They will all perish! I swear I will say nothing, you can kill me when it is all over, but please do not condemn them!"

His eyes moved wildly around the room. They moved to Thrór who waved him off and began to walk up the dias and slumped in his chair as he murmured to himself. They moved on to Thráin.

"They will move on!" he shouted. "There is no gold in our mountain. They will grow tired and restless, they will shift their eyes south...to Erebor. If you attack now at least you would have others help you fight!"

Thráin looked at him, the smallest glimmer of pity in his eyes. "That is a chance we will have to take."

Ghom lost all his will to fight as his body slumped in defeat. His hazel eyes cast down to the floor as he let himself be dragged away, not even giving an effort to move his feet. As they removed him from the room, his eyes lifted just enough to let himself take in Thorin who was still silently watching from near the door.

A glimmer of recognition fell across his face and his body suddenly went rigid, his feet ground into the floor. The sudden resistance caught the soldiers off guard and they came to an abrupt halt as Ghom stared at Thorin with a new light within his eyes.

"You," he said quietly. "You were the reason why she told me to come here instead of the Iron Hills like her father commanded. She said you would help, she said you were different…" A hard look came over his face. "I guess she was wrong about you after all."

With that said he let himself be taken away, not bothering to resist or look back. Thorin was left standing. His once crossed arms hanging loosely at his sides as he failed to fully react.

_Asha_.

She could be the only person he was referring to.

It had been months since he let his mind wander to her...willingly. It was then that the true reality hit him.

Asha was there, she was in Dhom, and he was here in Erebor, doing nothing. His eyes flashed to the slumped form of his grandfather and gritted his teeth. For the first time in his life, he felt the loathing and spite Brimir's felt for Durin's. He resented the famed stubborness of Durin's. It was enough to make him do something that he had only ever done once in his life, betray his family and go against their instructions.

* * *

Thorin could not recall the last time he had been in the dank dungeons of Erebor. The musty smell of rotted hay and mildew filled his nostrils and forced him to cringe. The dim lighting from the few lit torches hanging from the wall did just enough to keep him from running into a wall and avoiding the puddles of water that accumulated on the floor. He finally reached the end of the way and found himself in front of the cell that held the inmate he intended to speak with.

"Come to gloat about the demise of the Brimir's," he asked without looking up. "You are not the first...and I doubt you will be the last."

"I do not take any pleasure in hearing of the deaths of women and children," Thorin replied.

At his statement Ghom looked up in surprise. After taking him in he nodded.

"Then why are you here?"

"I sent one of the fastest ravens to the Iron Hills," Thorin offered. "Aid should be on its way within two days time."

Ghom gave a grave smile and let his head fall back as he looked blankly up at the ceiling. "Two days and another five for them to arrive...it was a kind gesture. Pray to Mahal they will not arrive too late."

Thorin could not reply. His throat was too tight. So he just nodded and walked away. His mind was numb and as much as he wanted to muster an army and ride to Dhom, he knew it was impossible. So he could only do one thing, one thing that he had been taught by the woman he once loved…

_Still loved, _his heart whispered.

Hope. It was all he could do. Hope that all would be well that the majority would survive until forces from the Iron Hills could arrive in time. And if not...perhaps it was a selfish thought, but he thought if there would only be one survivor, it would be her.

* * *

"Dhom has fallen."

Silence followed the announcement given to the representatives present. All heads bowed down, even those from Erebor silently gave half hearted prayers up to the heavens.

"Grór and his army had been stalled and by the time they arrived, the enemy had breached their last defenses and were swarming the deepest parts of the stronghold. Their army managed to break through enough to aid some who lived in the outer regions of the stronghold, but those who dwelled in the deeper parts where trapped."

Lord Frilar explained. He looked around the room at each person's face before continuing.

"I have a sum of nearly four hundred refugees being housed in my estate and on my lands. But I do not have enough resources to take them in indefinitely. I need volunteers willing to take them in and give them the resources necessary to get back on their feet. They will need money, homes, and land."

A rumble of murmurs filled the air as emissaries and lords discussed amongst themselves. Occasionally an offer to take in a portion of the refugees or submit a donation was given by various groups and accepted with a grateful bow from Lord Frilar as he kept notes on a page.

Thorin looked to his father who was standing silently beside him. Thráin felt his sons stare and spoke without even looking at him.

"Your grandfather would not allow a single soul to enter," he said hollowly. Thorin opened his mouth to counter it but stopped when his father turned to him. "We have enough problems keeping his illness from the others and nearly everything sets him off. Having a mass of strangers, especially from Dhom would be too much risk."

Again Thorin moved to make a protest, but another voice from a Lord across the room rendered him silent.

"What of the royal family? Where is King Rangar and his family?"

Voices stilled again as all looked to Lord Frilar, but it was King Grór that answered.

"Reports from the survivors say that Rangar passed away from his wounds not but three days after receiving them. As for his family...sources say they were located within the deepest parts of the Kingdom."

A ringing began to sound in Thorin's ears as he heard the words of his great uncle.

"In an effort to keep the army from moving on to wreak havoc on any others, all entrances were collapsed or blocked off. No soul could have possibly escaped from such a mass. Food would have been scarce as most stores where located outside of the sealed off portions. It most likely will not take long before the goblins resort to...other sources of food."

The implication of his words sent a cold shudder through everyone who listened. Several looked as if they would be sick. Grór himself bowed his head as if ashamed of the fate he had given those left behind.

"We can only hope that their deaths came swiftly," he murmured softly.

Thorin starred forward without truly seeing. He could not believe it. He heard the words but the reality of it was beyond nightmares. She was there. She was part of those left to be feasted upon. Her bones would be picked clean and there would be no telling what they would do to her before they devoured her body.

He barely made it outside before spilling the contents of his earlier breakfast onto the frozen grass outside the door. He heaved until there was nothing left and then he continued to let out dry heave after dry heave. He fell to his knees and brushed a shaky hand across his dampened forehead where he broke out in cold sweats.

With shaky knees he attempted to stand before falling back down to the ground. Giving no other attempt to stand, he braced his arms on his bent knees and began to rock himself as his hands grasped at his black tendrils of hair. He did not care about the onlookers as he gave out an anguished cry that echoed throughout the courtyard. Asha was dead and it was all his fault.

* * *

_It was a story of tragedy._

_Two houses that could not find peace. Two lovers that were torn apart because of the hatred of each house. Even when loved ones were lost could they not find a resolution. And when the demise of one came, the other sat back and did nothing because of a feud the could not put aside._

_And it was an unfortunate fate for the Durin's that they did not rise to the call of aid. For the curse in which the Lord Frilar spat upon the houses came true. Their feud became their downfall. The Brimir's had already met theirs and unbeknownst to the Durin's, their downfall would soon fly over their Kingdom not long after. For it was one year later that a Fire Drake heard tell of the illustrious treasures buried underneath the protection of the Lonely Mountain. A mountain that was easily accessible now that the Kingdom to the North that once stood between him and the mountain was nothing more than a sealed tomb for the house of Brimir._


	8. Epilogue

Rubble shifted, then, it fell. A small hole was opened up as a final large stone was loosened enough from the surrounding wall of rocks that it fell open. Just big enough for a single body to pass through at a time.

A burly dwarf known as Habard pulled his way through the hole, his eyes blinking wildly as the blinding light that had been vacant for the past days burned his eyes. Tears formed in his eyes from the bright mess but eventually, they adjusted and he could finally see again.

With his restored vision, he turned around to help the first person of the group that had been whittled down to a meger numbers. Only twenty, of the thousands that had been locked away had survived the horrors witnessed in the past week.

The first was a small boy, followed by his brother who were each passed up by their uncle. The man himself was next to come up who after situating his nephews at the bottom of the rock slide, moved back up the rocky slope to assist Habard in pulling out the rest of the group.

Next was a young woman, her face streaked from the tears that had run trails through the mask of red that stained her face, neck, and the front of her dress. Blood from her recently deceased husband of only a month.

Habard shivered at the sight and made a mental priority to make sure the woman was bathed before she was able to catch sight of her reflection.

He had found her just the day before. Rescued her from a swarm of goblins that had laid carnage to another group of dwarves she had been banded with in hopes to find a way out. The rest of her group had already been killed, their bodies half devoured by the time they had crossed paths.

It took less than a few of their group to eliminate the goblins and they had nearly moved on when another of their group noticed something move beneath one of the corpses. Habard had been the one to pull the woman free of her late husband's body. She still had yet to speak a word.

They worked quickly and quietly, not wanting to alert any of the masses within their location. One by one the survivors where lifted from the dark depths of what used to be their home, now nothing but a hell hole that they despised. Finally, the numbers remaining to be brought out dwindled as the next half hour went by.

"My lady," called Habard. "You next."

From the darkness he heard a soft protest followed by others insisting that she be next. Habard reached his hand down into the darkness and waited for the next hand to be lifted up to him. A small pale hand attached to a heavily freckled arm rose up into the daylight. He gave a firm grip as the uncle of the first two survivors, kneeled beside him to grab the other arm that rose up from the darkness.

Each of them lifted the woman, slowly and carefully. The moment the light touched her hair it became inflamed as the deep red was alighted and her hazel eyes burned with the haunting agony that they all shared. But, like only a few of the survivors, there was a fierceness and determination found there as well. A flame of will that was the whole reason any of them were escaping at this moment.

As she was lifted fully from the darkness, Habard helped steady her, then proceeded to help her climb down the slippery slope as another took his place to assist in the retrieval of the last three men still in the cavern below.

"Please, take a seat here my lady," called an older woman who had found a flat rock to sit on.

Habard help the woman sit down as she was shaky on her feet. Now in midays full light, he noticed the deep gash that marred the left side of her face. He frowned at the sight but was brought back to attention when she spoke up.

"Thank you," she said softly as she settled on the rock beside the woman.

As the final survivors emerged from the ground, the group set about covering the hole in a way to leave just enough cracks to let a small trickle of light into the darkness below. It would act as a beacon to any other survivors. Goblins would be too frenzied and stupid to carefully remove the stones without causing a rockslide, but dwarves, dwarves would know how to safely remove them. It was just a matter of if there were any left to find the hole.

"My Lady," Harbard addressed the resting woman. "What next?"

Asha lifted her eyes to see the small group gathered around her. Looking to her for guidance. She wanted to frown at such a small number but she was grateful that any of them made it out from the nightmare they had just escaped.

She contemplated their options. It was a limited list. They could find refuge with their allies. But it would be a long journey and they had hardly any supplies. And while the winter was nearly at its end, she knew they would not be able to travel far. The closest distance wise would be Erebor. But she doubted that would be an option given the lack of response to their call for aid.

Next would be Lord Frilaur's lands and beyond that, the iron hills. But as she looked around at the eyes of her people she realized neither option would do. Refuge was not an option. It was retribution these people needed, something new. There would be no going back to a normal life after what they had just seen, heard, and felt. At least not for a long while. For some perhaps never.

"Dhom has fallen...and with that so has its crown," she looked down and rubbed a grimy hand over her swollen belly. "We will build a new life, a new culture, a new future."

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Book II of this series is now being posted under the name Fortunate Encounters which takes place during the events of the book/movies. It will bring in more characters and will continue the story of Asha and Thorin as well as new pairing between Fili/OC and Kili/OC. As always any feedback is appreciated. Thank you all for your support and please check out some of my other stories.

**Author's Note:**

> This is part 1 of my fortune series. It is roughly inspired by Romeo and Juliet with a less deathy ending but still tragic. I currently have this one finished and posting chapters as I finish editing them.


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